Page 17 of Sinful Bride

Cries erupt. Pure chaos. Chaos everywhere.

“Get off me!”

“Where is security?”

“Mel, grab the kids and take them to the car!”

“I just want my granddaughter!”

“You are not welcome here!”

“I swear to God, if you lay a finger on my daughter?—”

“You put your hands all over mine!”

“You sick fuck?—”

“Alright, alright!” Security finally arrives and fills the room to capacity. Too many bodies in here, shoving and pushing and yelling. “Everyone out! Only the parents and the approved family are allowed to stay!”

I close my eyes. Try to sink deeper into the pillows. If I’m lucky, they’ll swallow me up and keep me insulated until all this is over.

Eventually, finally, the pressure deflates along with the crowd. Ophelia and Stewart escort themselves out the door, their hands in the air so security won’t drag them out by the scruff of their necks.

Jameson sighs and shakes his head. Then he looks to Pasha, seemingly uncertain of what to say. He settles for a handshake, a grateful nod, and ducks out to meet Mel and the kids in the parking garage.

Asya is the first to rush to my side. “Malyshka. Sweetheart. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

I shake my head. “Not… physically…”

She clicks her tongue and strokes my hair back. “You are strong. You are beautiful. You have a wonderful family of your own, and new family in us. You are far better off than they are, and people like that cannot stand for it.”

“Thanks.” She does, somehow, manage to make me smile.

“Now, Sofi and I will spend some time with little Taty while you and Pasha get some much-needed rest. Sound good?”

I nod. “Yeah. She’s probably asleep by now, though. She’s been so quiet through all the mess.”

“Hey, Pash.” Mak stares at the bassinet, then looks up to his brother. “You have Taty, right?”

Pasha’s fists—which are clearly not holding our daughter—clench. That vein in his jaw starts throbbing. His voice, when it comes out, is halfway between feral and fearful. “Someone better tell me they have my daughter here in this room.”

“Maybe the nurse?” Sofi suggests. Without waiting for an answer, she flies out of the room to check.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. The nurse probably took her for a routine check-up; it was just easier without the bassinet.

“Daphne? Honey? Breathe. Breathe with me. It’s okay. She’s fine. She’s just?—”

“She’s not with the nurse.”

Sofi is the palest I’ve ever seen her when she returns to the doorway. She looks to Pasha, her eyes wide and brimming with panic. “The nurse never took her. They planned on coming back later once everything was calm.”

“So…” Mak swallows hard. “Where is she?”

My eyes scan the room. The bassinet is empty. Every corner is, too. There’s nowhere else she could be.

“Taty?” I cry. “Tatyanna? Where is my baby?!”

7

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