Page 34 of Sold to the Russian (Nikolai Bratva Brides #6)

Maeve didn’t have it in her to leave his side in the state that he was. She was only at peace when she was with him, so she stood there the entire time, even after he was admitted and wheeled down the sterile hallway on a gurney.

Guilt, rage, sadness, panic—everything put together made her want to explode. The stupid fucking burner phone was still hidden in her bra even as she watched a barely conscious Fedya being rolled into the ER.

And then she wished, out of all the things that happened tonight, that she had been the one who got shot because of him. At least he’d be okay, and she wouldn’t have to deal with this battle of emotions warring between her heart and her brain.

Her fingers trembled as she touched her belly, remembering Margot’s advice about taking a test, just before shit went down in the bar.

The possibility of her carrying a child felt like an anvil sinking down her chest, crushing her heart in.

There was too much at stake, too many things she was yet to resolve, to handle the weight of a child.

A child with Nikolai blood running in its veins.

She’d been on birth control pills for as long as she could remember, but that had ceased the moment she married him. As careless as it sounded, they hadn’t done anything to prevent a pregnancy, so maybe she should have seen this coming.

She was so caught up in the thick fog of her thoughts that she barely noticed the heavy footsteps behind her until they were right in front of her—all three of his brothers: Viktor, Kostya, and Ilya.

They stood like shadows looming over her, grim yet controlled.

She couldn’t read them; their faces were blank sheets except for the tension in Viktor’s jaw as he looked her over.

A ripple of fear coursed through her, but she swallowed it down. She tried to stand, but Ilya wouldn’t let her.

“Come with us,” he said simply, though his voice was stern. Hard.

She listened, ignoring the way her heart sank in her chest. This was inevitable after all—the time they’d know the truth. This was the last way she wanted them to know, but shit had hit the fan now, and there was nothing she or anyone else could do about it.

Might as well face it head-on.

She followed them into a quiet corner of the hallway, just out of earshot.

“Alright, love, start talking,” Kostya began, staring at the ring on her finger. The one she wasn’t wearing when they came over the last time. “How long have you two been married?”

“A month,” she said firmly. Clearing her throat, she added, “My last name is O’Rourke. Cormac’s my father.”

Ilya let out a tired sigh. Kostya muttered ‘ Jesus’ under his breath, and Viktor—Viktor was the one who asked, “What the fuck?”

“He knew by the way,” Maeve said, feeling a little more cautious now that they knew she was the daughter of an enemy. “He came to my father on his own, pretending to be an American arms dealer. My dad married me off to him in exchange for his ammunition, and we’ve been married ever since.”

“And your father,” Kostya frowned, staring at her intently. “He didn’t try to contact you at all?”

Maeve wasn’t sure why she lied so well.

“He called me once, the night of our wedding. Wanted to know if I was alright,” she said, holding their stares.

She wondered if they could see the burner phone hidden in her bra.

“Fedya destroyed my phone after that. And everything was silent until he called Fedya two nights ago, inviting us to his bar.”

Viktor took a step forward, his voice low and threatening. “Do you have any idea what this means, Maeve? Are you aware of the mess this has caused?”

Her jaw clenched as she took a step back.

“I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask to be married to him, a stranger who revealed himself to me after we got married.

I was forced into this by my father, sold off in exchange for weapons.

So, no. I know nothing of the mess this has caused, but I know I am not at fault.

Not for what happened that day and not for what happened tonight. ”

Viktor shut his eyes briefly, his nostrils flaring as Kostya pulled him back. Ilya stared at her.

“So you’re a victim—is that what you’re saying?”

She swallowed thickly. “I was.”

“Was?”

“He doesn’t make me feel like a victim,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “Not anymore, at least.”

“Of course, he doesn’t,” Viktor said, pinching his nose like it was the obvious thing in the world. “He’s stupidly in love with you, that’s why. He looks at you like it hurts to breathe. I’ve never seen him so irritatingly in love with a woman before.”

“He may be too stubborn to say it out loud, but we’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Kostya added with a nod. “And you’re a Nikolai now, whether you like it or not. The moment he put a ring on your finger, he made you his responsibility.”

Maeve wasn’t sure if the sickness she felt was more from guilt or if it was pregnancy-related. She couldn’t tell them that there was a high chance already, not when they just found out who she was.

“Anyway, the mess has been made,” Ilya concluded, pulling out his phone from his pocket.

“You are a complication we didn’t see coming, that’s for sure, but the good news is that it’s in our hands.

It’s obvious that your father knows who Fedya is, so you’ll both be moved to the estate for the time being, until we wrap this bullshit up.

” There was a dark look on his face. “It’s gone on for too long.

Sparing your father was a mistake on my part. ”

Her limbs were heavy with dread as she made her way back to Fedya’s ward after the bullet had been taken out of him.

He was asleep, a little pale, chest rising and falling in uneven patterns.

His skin glistened with sweat, his brows knit together in annoyance even though he was barely conscious.

Maeve didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

She touched his forehead, feeling the heat of his skin sear into her fingers. He was burning up like a volcano, so she looked around until she found a basin in the corner. She filled it with hot water and began gently dabbing his skin with a washcloth.

He’s stupidly in love with you, that’s why. He looks at you like it hurts to breathe. I’ve never seen him so irritatingly in love with a woman before.

And you’re a Nikolai now, whether you like it or not. The moment he put a ring on your finger, he made you his responsibility.

And then all at once, she began to cry. The sobs came like a dam breaking through, blurring her vision as she took a shaky step away from him.

Her gasps came in ugly hiccups as she pressed her face into her cold palms, crying like a baby.

Not just fear for Fedya or what could have happened to him tonight, because it could have been so much worse.

The bullet could have hit his chest instead or sunk into his head.

She could have lost him tonight, and that would be her fault.

Because if she’d told him right after he received that call from Cormac, told him the truth of why her father had married her to him, he’d be better prepared for the ambush.

Better still, they probably wouldn’t have gone in the first place.

There was Aleksander, still lurking in the shadows even though he was present tonight. There was the pregnancy she hadn’t confirmed either. If, by any chance at all, her father found out, he would kill her. She feared his wrath as much as she hated him.

You hate him, and you still have his burner phone in your clothes.

Everything felt like it was too much. Too overwhelming. She felt like the world was crashing down on her simply because she was too stupid to make a decision, to decide between turning her back on her blood for life or turning her back on the man she loved.

Weak . She felt so goddamn weak.

She barely heard the ruffling of sheets beneath all those ugly sobs that wracked her body, barely felt the weight of his gaze on her until she heard his voice amidst the chaos in her head.

“I hate it when you cry,” he said, and when she turned, she found him staring at her with a deep frown on his face. He was sitting up, annoyed at the tears on her face. “Especially over something that isn’t your fault.”

Maeve dragged her hands over her face and sniffed. Her face was beetroot red. “You’re awake.”

“Hard to sleep with you crying like that.”

She let out a laugh that sounded more like a hiccup. “You could have died tonight.”

“I’m not that easy to kill,” he said with a shrug. “Unfortunately for everyone. You would know. You’ve tried before.”

Maeve smiled through her tears despite herself. She scooted closer to him and could barely stop herself from pressing her lips to him. He kissed her back softly and quietly, and when she pulled back, words stumbled out of his mouth.

“I am in love with you,” he said, his hand wrapped around her arm, refusing to let her go. “Are you aware that I’m crazy about you?”

Maeve tried really hard not to cry, but she could feel the tears building up like a waterfall. “You’ve said it, so I’m aware now.”

“Good,” he nodded, kissing her again. He didn’t seem to care that she didn’t say it back. “That’s really good. I needed you to know that.”

Later that night, while Fedya was deep in sleep, she gently slipped out and made her way to the hospital pharmacy before he could wake up.

She forced her brain to remain numb as she slipped into the bathroom with a small paper bag. Inside were two pregnancy test sticks that had a good chance of changing her entire life.

Her hands trembled as she unwrapped them, barely looking at her reflection as she took the test. She placed the sticks on the sink before sitting on the toilet seat, counting down seconds in her head.

She was eight minutes in when she felt a buzz in her chest. She took out her phone with numb fingers, her mind spiraling as she stared at the messages that were clearly from her father.

You will be moved to the estate now that they are aware of who you are. There’s a black flash drive in Mikhail’s study. Behind the third drawer, under the false bottom. Get the drive. You’ll know it when you see it. It has the symbol of an eagle etched on the side.

Don’t be stupid, A stor. This is the whole game.

She wasn’t sure how many times she had read the messages until she remembered why she had come to the bathroom in the first place. She stood up and stared at the obvious pink lines, indicating that the test was positive.

Margot’s suspicions had been right after all. She really was carrying Fedya’s child.

She clutched the sink for balance when she felt her knees threatening to give out.

Her eyes returned to the small phone clutched in the center of her palm, her eyes glazing over her father’s instructions.

And then, she grabbed one of the sticks from the sink, stared at the evidence of her pregnancy before finally meeting her reflection in the mirror.

She was certain of what she had to do.

Her decision was made.