Page 25 of Used By the Bratva

Holy shit. The baby of a mafia boss is growing inside me.

A hand falls on my stomach, and although there is no bump, I know there’ll be one soon. I won’t be able to hide the fact that I am having a baby for much longer.

I slide down from the exam table, handing the paper back to her. “Thank you for running the test,” I say.

She stands up and takes a brochure from a shelf on the wall. “This contains everything you need to know going forward. If you have any questions, call the clinic, and ask for me. I would be happy to talk to you.”

My heart hammers in my chest as I take the pamphlet from her and put it in my purse.

I don’t know if I can do this. I thought I could; I thought I was strong, but now sheer panic is coursing through my body, and I feel sick again. What the hell have I done?

Walking through the clinic is like walking through a dreamland. Everything around me seems surreal. The crying children in their mother’s arms, the posters on the wall of happy families. I feel like the air is being sucked out of my lungs as I push open the doors and step outside.

The fresh air does little to calm me, and the feelings in my body go crazy. I bend down, heaving, and am ready to throw up in the nearest bush.

My phone beeps and distracts me for a second. I pull it out, and a voice message from Tyler flashes on the screen.

I don’t have time to deal with this now. None of that. Neither the baby nor Tyler. But I must deal with one of them; right now, Tyler is less of a problem.

I press play as I head for the subway station down the street.

His office is in Harlem. It’s at 107 West 136th Street.

That's it. This is the chance I’ve been waiting for.

And yet, when I try to take a step toward the subway that will take me to Harlem, I can’t move my feet.

After years, I finally have the chance to know the truth about my life, but I don’t know if I can do it after everything I've been through today. I don’t know if I can get on a subway and confront Boris Petrovsky.

I slide the phone back into my pocket, my hand drifting down to my stomach.

Now, I also have a child to consider. I’ve always wanted to be a mother, and now that I’m becoming one, an unfamiliar perspective comes into play.

The stress will not be good for the baby. I need to keep a calm head. Take a few days to think about the questions I want to ask Boris.

But something tells me I will only get one shot to talk to him, and it might as well be today.

Determined—at least for the moment—I descend the stairs to the subway station and think about the baby while I wait.

It is still early in the pregnancy—six weeks at the most. If my period didn’t work like clockwork, I might not even have thought pregnancy was possible.

I should have known that one night without a condom was going to screw me over. I was stupid and too caught up in the moment to care about the consequences. I wanted to feel every inch of Leon.

And now I’m carrying his child.

Groaning, I lean against one of the posts.

I was supposed to be in a loving relationship before I had a child. I should have a man by my side who is as committed to our growing family as I am.

Instead, I’m standing on the subway looking into a future where I must raise a child alone.

Marina did it, and I can do it, too. Life in Russia has taught me to be resilient, and I will be too.

Although Marina was not at college or trying to get her paintings known in the art world. She was at home, raising me and working while I was at school. She was home every night and every weekend. I don’t know how I can be there for my baby like that when my whole life revolves around painting, but I will do it.

This may not be what I wanted, but this is the hand life has dealt me, and now I must find a way to balance it all out.

Chapter 11 - Leon

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