Page 122 of Hidden Empire

It’s dark but Dmitri and Ivan aren’t fazed by using the stars and the moon to light the ground for them, confidently striding while I cautiously mimic their path. We aren’t heading to the same medical building Matteo has pointed out before, but I don’t question it. It makes sense that the Morozovs would have a different doctor.

When our steps slow, I look up to see more light. A small bulb attached to a house-like structure is lighting up the space around it like a beacon, shining down on where we’re headed.

The small stone building is mostly hidden behind hauntingly tall trees, the surrounding ground littered with bumpy tree roots. It’s like an old fairy tale cottage with moss covering the walls and some of the roof. I half expect a chimney to be pumping out comically perfect swells of smoke, but there isn’t one.

“I’ve never seen this place before,” I mention quietly, twigs snapping beneath our feet as we approach the door. I don’t think I even knew it existed. How could I be here for so many weeks and still have parts of the island to explore?

“There are a few different spots to find doctors here,” Ivan reports diplomatically. “This one is just ours.”

Without knocking, Dmitri pulls on the door handle, opening it for all of us to squeeze through. While the outside of this place has some serious cozy cabin vibes, the inside is sterile and white. It’s like a vet clinic or a tiny little hospital.

“Preyemnik,” an unfamiliar voice says, catching my ear. “Is everything alright?”

The older man who’s speaking has gray hair and thin glasses, but he’s still tall and sturdy-looking. He looks like a grandpa who can still run on the beach but needs to have a nap at 2 p.m. to function for the rest of the day. He’s standing behind a low counter, waiting for a reply.

“No one is hurt,” Dmitri reports. “Is anyone else here today?”

“We’re alone,” the man answers firmly.

Nodding, my boyfriend informs him, “We need an ultrasound.”

If the man—who must be the doctor—is thrown off by Dmitri’s request, he doesn't show it. He doesn’t really react at all emotionally, only vocally.

“Of course,” he says, willing to comply. “Come this way.”

Dmitri, still holding my hand, guides me to follow while Ivan walks alongside my stride. Curious about so many things, I lean closer to my friend.

“What did he call him?” I ask lowly. “Prey—something?”

“Preyemnik, it means successor,” Ivan whispers back. “It’s just what some of the older men call Dmitri. They’re looking forward to him taking on the role of Pakhan.”

So this guy doesn’t just respect Dmitri, he likes him. That’s good. I’m much more comfortable trusting him if he has a vested interest in Dmitri’s well-being.

“Take a seat, Miss,” the doctor pauses, waiting for someone to say my name.

“Moretti,” Dmitri fills in.

“Jade is fine,” I protest lightly. “You’re about to look inside my stomach, I think you can call me by my first name.”

As I climb up to sit on the padded leather table, I watch the doctor glancing at Dmitri for permission. He won’t even use my first name unless he approves it. Kind of badass, if I’m honest. But come on, it’s just a name.

Thankfully, Dmitri agrees that it's fine.

“Jade then,” he agrees. “I’m Dr. Petrov. You think you’re pregnant?”

“She took a test,” Dmitri answers. “She’s pregnant with my child.”

First of all, damn, way to just throw that out there.

Second, oh lord, why is that so hot?

“As long as the test wasn’t wrong,” I add, feeling the need to.

Dmitri is so confident, and he doesn’t hesitate to show it.

“It wasn’t.”

The cushioned little table is cold, but I ignore the chills running up my arm in favor of tugging at the ends of my shirt. “I can just roll this up, right?”

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