Page 35 of The Brutal Arrangement (The Ivanov Syndicate #2)

LUCY

W hen I first missed my period, I intended to mention it to Damon. But then we got carried away with each other and I left it in the back of my mind.

Since taking that test with Damon and seeing the evidence that yes, I was expecting, it seemed like it was the only thing on my mind.

“Ugh…” I rolled over in bed a couple of days later, so tired of this already.

Fatigue was the first symptom to hit me.

In hindsight, I hadn’t only been napping so often and catching myself yawning in the afternoons because Damon was keeping me up too much with sex.

He was. But now that I knew I was pregnant and I’d read up with the books Sloane offered me to know what to expect, I realized that it was fatigue from the changes my body was already going through.

But this morning sickness business was rough .

“Not feeling so good?” Damon asked next to me in bed. He stirred as I moaned slightly.

“No. Not really.”

“Hold on.” He rolled out of bed, quick to help me however he could. I doubted he’d be able to really “cure” this dilemma. No cures would be possible, and I knew I would get used to this. It was worth it. But it sure was sweet of him to be so concerned and want to make me feel as stable as possible.

I closed my eyes and rolled into a tighter ball, willing this nausea to pass. It hadn’t even been a full couple of weeks yet and my throat was raw from puking.

Damon didn’t go far. He’d only walked around the bed to get the plain saltine crackers from my nightstand, as well as the water bottle and bucket in case I couldn’t make it to the bathroom. As I waited for the water and crackers to nibble on, I counted my blessings that I had him to help me.

That I had a husband to stand with me. A partner to shoulder whatever he could in assistance.

I couldn’t imagine facing these changes on my own. But then again, he was half of the participating party in this, anyway.

Waiting out the nausea, I took comfort in the steady rubs of his hand over my back.

“Better?” he asked eventually.

I nodded, smiling up at him and hoping I wasn’t lying.

“I hope it’s not like this the whole time,” he said, frowning. “You don’t seem to have much of an appetite.”

“I think it could fade later on.” I sighed, sitting up and brushing my hair out of my face. “I don’t know. Time will tell.”

“Maybe we should get you to the doctor sooner,” he said, clearly unhappy at the idea of me in any discomfort.

“No. Not yet. Sloane said this can be normal.”

He furrowed his brow. “I don’t remember her acting like this.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t near her in the morning, but when I asked Maxim about morning sickness, he said Sloane was lucky. She seemed ill because of work exhaustion rather than her pregnancy when she first knew about it.”

I patted his thigh, indicating for him to get up. “I’ll be all right. Thank you for the help.”

“I feel like there’s nothing I can do to help,” he said as he stood.

“You are. Your just being here helps me.” I tipped my face up for a kiss. “Go on. I know you’ve got that appointment with your father’s specialist.”

“Lucy, you are my wife. You matter and?—”

I leaned up to kiss him. “I said I’m fine. It’s better now.” Smiling to show that I wasn’t faking it, I relaxed when he nodded and turned to get dressed.

Still, he watched me closely as I lay in bed some more. “I can ask Sloane to come sit with you.”

“No need.” He was too damn good to me. He’d asked her to come sit with me yesterday, and she’d distracted me as I puked into the toilet—since he was away with a meeting. She’d carried on with baby name ideas, laughing at the ridiculous ones she’d seen on name websites.

Once he left, I got up and figured I could start that yoga routine that Sloane swore by.

I would never have the body she had as a mom-to-be.

She’d told me that her exercise of choice was stripping and dancing, and neither of those had ever been my preference for cardio.

Yoga, though, that could help me stay flexible.

As soon as I moved into the first position, though, the nausea returned with vengeance.

“Oh, no…” I ran to the bathroom, reaching the toilet just in time.

Fifteen agonizing minutes later, my abs hurt from heaving. Nothing was coming up, but I felt so gross from the effort that I wanted to shower and steam myself clean.

No. Maybe a bath would be better.

I’d already read in the baby books that I couldn’t have it too hot or warm. Besides, it wasn’t like I had a huge baby bump yet, where soaking in hot water could directly impact them.

I filled the tub and lay back, wishing this morning sickness could be managed.

Thank God I don’t have to worry about a job.

I’d be burning through all my sick time.

“Lucy?”

I smiled at the sound of Damon coming into the bathroom.

“Oh, no.”

I winced at him as he sat next to the tub, not caring about his suit getting wet.

“I thought you said you were fine.”

I nodded. “I was. For maybe five minutes. Then…” I shrugged.

He got up to take off his jacket, then rolled up his sleeves.

The peek of that ink on his arms intrigued me, as it always did.

When he returned to sit next to the tub, he reached over for the cloth I’d intended to use to clean myself.

After getting it soaked, he’d dragged it over my arms, intent on comforting me.

This rugged man of mine was a killer. He was a brutal enforcer for the family, but with me, he was the softest, sweetest, and gentlest husband.

Just having him with me relaxed me, and with his support, I knew I’d tough out this morning sickness.

“I wonder what kind of a mother I will be,” I mused aloud.

“A good one.”

I smirked. “I mean what my parenting style would be like.”

He watched me, almost smiling. “Well, what kind of a mother was your mom?”

“Oh, she was patient. Very inclusive of anything I was curious about. She never held me back and always encouraged me to be creative and ask questions.”

“Then I bet you’d be like that, too.”

I took his hand, holding it instead of letting him caress me. I was as calm as I could be now, and my stomach had settled too.

“My mother shouldn’t have any impact on my parenting,” he admitted, frowning after he spoke. Zoning out, he seemed to stare absently at the surface of the water that rippled slightly from the low setting of the jets.

“Because you didn’t know her for long?” I guessed. I was vaguely aware of Beatrice cheating on Grigory, but Maxim and Damon both avoided talking about her. It seemed like too sensitive of a topic to ask Sloane about.

“No. And she was a terrible mother. Absent. Leaving us with our grandmother or in the care of nannies.”

“I’m sorry.”

He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles.

“I realized that some people are just not meant to be parents.”

I nodded. “I know what you mean. I’d see that situation in the homes I cleaned as a maid. Where parents would be absent and not care at all.”

“Beatrice didn’t care about us. We ended up being pawns to her. She cheated on my father and slept with the enemy. She was a selfish woman who had no maternal instincts.”

Now I was the one comforting him, rubbing his hand with what I could reach of my thumb.

“She arranged for us to be kidnapped and killed. Just so she could appease her lover, who wanted to see the Ivanov name destroyed.”

“Oh, Damon.” I sat up to hug him, but he urged me to lie back. “I’m so sorry.”

He nodded. “She didn’t accomplish it. Right when Maxim, Nik, and I were led out to be shot execution style, someone tipped off Father and he saved us.”

I sniffled, so overwhelmed by the idea of my husband being dead. Of us never having a chance to meet at all. That was how much I loved him, how much I couldn’t imagine him not being in my life.

“He killed her, of course. She turned traitor, trying to get his sons killed.”

“And she hurt you and your brothers with that deceit.”

“Yes.” He locked his solemn gaze on me. “She did. The pain of her betrayal and the experience of being held hostage, then almost executed, had ruined me for many years.” Again, he kissed the back of my hand, as if he needed the contact to reassure himself that those times couldn’t reach him again.

“And it’s why I struggle with control. With needing submission.

I had no control as a boy then. I hated the merciless hopelessness I felt before we were shot.

Ever since then, it was hard to think of trusting any woman.

Grandmother was different. She was present and she cared.

She wasn’t at all like Beatrice. But…” He lowered his gaze, almost ashamed to admit his flaws like this.

I was glad he could open up to me like this now, though. It put it all into perspective.

“I understand, Damon. Anyone would’ve struggled like that.”

He sighed and faced me. “I never intended to hurt you when I accused you of lying. It wasn’t a nefarious plan to project you as a liar and someone I couldn’t trust.”

I nodded, then leaned in to kiss his lips. “I understand, Damon.” I forgave him for his earlier treatment because now, knowing this part of his past, I couldn’t fault him at all.

“And please know that history won’t repeat itself.” I put our joined hands on my stomach underwater. “I would never let anything hurt this baby. And I vow that you can always trust me, Husband.”

He held the back of my head to pull me close again, sealing his lips over mine as if to lock those words between us. “And I will do the same. I won’t ever let anyone harm you or our child, Lucy.”