Page 5 of Pregnant Behind the Veil (Brides for Greek Brothers #3)

Alessandra

Am I a coward for walking away from Michail and not giving him a chance to reply? Probably. But I’m also five months pregnant by a man who hates me, on the last day at a job I loved but had to give up, and I’m alone.

I’m allowed a few cowardly moments.

My flats slap against the floor and echo in the massive space of the tower lobby. I prefer heels, enjoy the confidence boost that comes with every click on the marble tile. But between my swollen feet and utter exhaustion, I’ve had to make a change.

So many changes, I think wearily as I near the glass doors leading out onto Broad Street.

Discovering Michail wants to be involved in my son’s life just might take the prize for most unexpected.

I’ll have to confront that sooner rather than later.

I can’t risk going to court. I’m very comfortable financially, but I don’t have a bottomless bank account to fund the kind of lawyers I’d need to even come close to competing with Michail.

Disappointment has me slowing just before the door.

The rare times I pictured having a child, I imagined doing so with a partner.

Maybe not one I was head over heels in love with, but someone I cared about, someone I was happy with.

I’d known better than to expect happily-ever-after with Michail.

He’d told me flat-out that we’d have one night and one night only.

So when the doctor had told me I was pregnant, I’d been content with the alternative of being a single parent, of getting to raise my son the way I saw fit.

The thought of having Michail involved, of the arguments and fights we’re sure to have while his distrust keeps a wall between us, drags me down until I barely have the strength to push open the door.

But I do. I step out onto the sidewalk. The recent rain left a freshness in the air that eases some of the tension from my muscles. Upbeat jazz plays from a colorfully decorated food truck parked halfway down the block.

I breathe in. A normal New York night. I need to remember little things like this, especially when the world feels like it’s spinning too fast.

Except…it is spinning. The music blurs in my head as the ground tilts beneath my feet. I try to blink away the dizziness, but it’s too fast; everything’s too fast and I’m falling. I wrap my arms around my stomach and turn so that I’ll at least land on my side, maybe my back. Keep my son safe.

“Alessandra!”

I hear the voice from far away as the ground rushes up to meet me. I scrunch my eyes shut so I can’t see. Brace for the impact.

But instead of landing on hard pavement, strong arms wrap around me, hold me close.

“Hang on. I’m calling an ambulance.”

His words rumble through me, pierce the tornado whirling around me. I curl into the heat, the strength, my body turning traitor even as my mind tries to regain control.

My tongue is thick, my mouth dry. I manage to force my lips apart.

“I told you to go away.”

And then I slip into the dark. Not completely.

I’m still dizzy, nauseous. There’s a rapid thumping next to my ear, one that sounds too fast yet offers some comfort.

I murmur that I’m too heavy, that he needs to put me down.

Maybe he hears; maybe he doesn’t. Then a distant hum that sounds like someone’s talking, but I’m underwater and can’t understand what’s being said.

The shrill shriek of a siren briefly penetrates.

I try to open my eyes, but it’s so much easier to just rest.

Jostling. The warmth disappears, replaced by something firm at my back and bindings across my chest and legs.

Then voices pierce the darkness. One is brisk, efficient, but unfamiliar.

The other…the other moves through me, a heavy blanket that soothes the dizziness still whirling at the edges of my mind.

“…far along is she?”

My eyes shoot open. Bright light temporarily blinds me. I blink as I try to push myself into a sitting position. Straps press against my skin. My heart pitches into my throat.

“Ma’am!”

Firm hands grab my shoulders and ease me back down.

“What…?” I try to turn my head and nearly throw up.

“You fainted, ma’am.” The efficient voice is closer. A hazy face appears above me, a man with round spectacles that glint in the light. “You’re in the back of an ambulance on the way to the hospital. I’m going to keep the straps on while we’re en route, okay? Just a safety precaution.”

“Where is—”

“Your fiancé is here, ma’am.”

Hysterical laughter bubbles in my throat. Is this a dream? Or am I caught in some alternate reality?

Michail’s face swims into view, blurry at the edges but no less handsome. God, why is he still so attractive even when I feel like I just got hit by a truck?

“I’m here, Alessandra.”

A strong hand wraps around mine. This time the thickness in my throat isn’t hysteria or nausea. No, it’s emotion. Temptation to lean into the comfort he’s offering.

My mother’s voice whispers in my ear.

Don’t give a man your heart, Alessandra. All he’ll do is break it.

My fingers stiffen in his grasp.

He leans down. His lips brush my cheek in a tender gesture that has me closing my eyes against a hot sting of tears. I hate him for whatever game he’s playing. I hate myself even more for wanting the fantasy, especially when I feel so weak.

“I had to let them know you were pregnant.” His voice is quiet, but I have no problem hearing him with his mouth right next to my ear. “I told them I was the father and that we’re engaged so I could ride with you to the hospital.”

I keep my eyes scrunched tight so I don’t do something foolish like try to take a swing at him. Not when I can barely look around the moving ambulance without feeling sick. But, I resolve as I slowly open my eyes, I will get him back for this.

Later. He’s not the one I care about in this moment. My arms are lead weights at my side.

“My baby,” I croak out. “Is he okay?”

A young woman moves into my line of sight. Her kind smile flashes against her dark brown skin as she pulls gloves on.

“Miss Wright, my name is Jodi and I’m a paramedic. I’d like to check your baby’s heartbeat.”

“Yes.” My attempt at a nod is swiftly met with regret as a stronger headache begins to pound in my forehead.

“Lay still,” Michail orders.

I mentally tally all the ways I’m going to exact my revenge as the medic lays a sheet over my lap before discreetly pulling up my skirt.

Jodi spreads a small amount of cool gel on my lower stomach.

The rest of the sounds fade away: the crackling radio static, the other medic’s voice as he converses with Michail, the honking horns and screeching brakes of New York traffic passing by.

Jodi presses the device against my stomach. I hold my breath…

And there he is. That beautiful thumping, like a wild horse galloping across a prairie.

My breath rushes out as I sag in relief. We’re not out of the woods yet. But for now, this is enough.

A tight pressure on my hand makes me look to the side. I’d forgotten Michail was holding my hand. His pale eyes are fixated on the doppler. Wide with shock and, I realize with a painful clenching in my chest, wonder. Like he’s actually excited to hear the baby’s heartbeat.

I know in that moment I have no choice. I’ll set boundaries, expectations. He makes one wrong move and I will kick him out of our lives faster than he can draw breath.

But I can’t deny Michail the opportunity to know his child.

And if he is a good father, which is the best possible scenario for my son, Michail will be a part of my life whether I want him in it or not.

Michail

The line on Alessandra’s heart monitor moves up and down in a reassuring pattern I’ve been observing for hours. The line on the screen next to it moves in the same pattern at twice the speed. A pace the nurse assured me was normal for the baby.

My fingers tighten on the paper in my hand. There’s no doubt now. Alessandra is carrying my son.

I glance at the clock on the wall. Nearly seven in the morning. It’s been eleven hours since we arrived at the hospital. Alessandra didn’t mention anything more about my decision to tell the paramedic I was the father, although I could tell she was less than happy about it.

My jaw tightens. Tough. There was no way I was letting her ride to the hospital alone.

My gaze shifts to her asleep in the hospital bed.

There’s color in her face now. When I caught her just before she hit the sidewalk, her skin was so pale, her breathing too shallow.

Every time I’ve tried to sleep, I barely close my eyes before adrenaline rockets through me as I remember seeing Alessandra fall, over and over again.

I was halfway across the lobby when I saw her start to sway.

I’ve never run so fast in my life. I burst through the doors in time to see her twist so that she was falling with her back to the concrete.

That possessiveness that first reared its head in her office at the sight of her slightly rounded belly turns primal, a deep and potent emotion that fills me every time I look at her.

She turned her body to protect the baby.

Sick and losing control, her last thought before she passed out was to keep our son safe.

I still don’t know her. But I know she’ll be a good mother.

She stirs in the bed, murmuring softly. One stray tendril of mahogany hair falls from the looser bun she pulled it into just before she fell asleep around midnight. Even in a hospital bed wearing a shapeless gown hooked up to several machines, she’s beautiful. Peaceful.