Page 155 of The Lazarov Bratva

I shrug. Then I nod. “I don’t know. I want to, and I don’t want to, if that makes sense?”

“Absolutely.”

He holds my gaze, and I study all the subtle color differences in his eyes. Is it wrong to want to know the sex of the baby? I don’t think so, and the way Kristof’s lip curls upward suggests that he also wants to know.

Given the risks to our entire lives right now thanks to my father, knowing would surely be better than not knowing, right?

“I think I want to,” I whisper. “I mean, given… everything, I want to know just in case…?”

Kristof beams at me. “Yes.”

We both turn to the doctor as he snaps his case closed, and catching our eager smiles, he chuckles.

“You wish to know?”

“Yes,” we reply in unison.

“Well, it will be confirmed later at your anatomy scan ultrasound, but I can tell you at the moment that it looks like you are going to be having a little girl!”

12

ALENA

“A girl?”

The technology is beyond me, but I don’t care. I’m—likely—having a little girl, and nothing else matters.

It doesn’t matter what our child will be, it will be the most loved, most doted on child in the entire universe, but for a moment, my mind floods with all the possibilities that come from having a little girl.

I can make sure she has a good upbringing, one that is the complete opposite of mine. I’ll do everything I can to keep her happy—read her stories and brush her hair, get her a dog so she can have the companionship I ached for as a child. We can have matching dresses and bows in our hair. I bet she’ll have Kristof’s eyes. Those killer pools of moonlight with my blonde hair would be gorgeous.

“A girl,” Kristof says, taking my hand between his. When our gazes meet, the same warmth swims in his that I feel in mine, and my smile stretches impossibly wide.

“We’ll have a perfect little girl,” I murmur.

The flicker of softness across Kristof’s face doesn’t last. It’s a fleeting glimpse meant for me and me alone. With a stranger here, he’s back to his stoic façade of power within half a second, but my heart stays light.

The rest of the doctor’s visit passes swiftly as we discuss what’s best for keeping me in good condition such as foods to avoid and what supplements I can take that will help me and the baby. There’s a lot of information to process, but the doctor is kind enough to leave several leaflets and a number for us to call should we have any more questions. Then he tries to set a date for the next visit, but it’s here that Kristof cuts him off.

“Alena.” Kristof squeezes my hand lightly. “Go take a bath.”

It’s an order rather than his usual request, but I don’t mind. Knowing him, he wants me to go and relax while washing off the touch of another man.

“Alright.” I’m too high on the joy of knowing our baby is healthy to care about much else. Kissing his cheek, I slide from the bed and flash the doctor a smile. “Thank you very much for your time.”

“Of course.” He flashes those bright pearly whites at me, and I slip off into the ensuite.

The last thing I see is Andrev stepping in front of the bathroom door and Kristof moving to engage in a deeper conversation with the doctor. Something about prenatal vitamins I’m sure he will fill me in on later.

In the bathroom, I set the bath running and then catch sight of myself in the mirror. Rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes gaze back at me filled with happiness I don’t recall ever seeing before. Both my hands glide over my stomach, lifting my shirt and tracing over the stickiness left behind by the ultrasound gel.

Our baby is inside me. This tiny, precious, perfect little piece of Kristof and me. She’s going to be the best of both of us, I just know it. And we’re going to give her a most treasured life.

When I was younger, I dreamed poorly about what it would be like to carry a baby. Mara spoke of it like it was the most important duty but also like it was something I would do easily. She repeatedly told me that it was important and all that mattered was that I did it right and without complaint. She never told me exactly how to do that, so I hope it comes with instinct.

The warm air closes around me and starts to steam up the mirror, clouding me from view starting at the edges. The steam creeps over my reflection until there’s just my abdomen in view. I stroke above and below my belly button and my heart surges with an outpouring of love.

How is it possible I feel like this over someone I’ve never met? Someone who’s the size of a large bean inside me?

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