Page 89 of Crown of Hate

My heart plummets to my stomach as realization dawns. Deep down, I know what it means—I’m pregnant. My usually clockwork-regular cycle is a week late, my breasts hurt a lot more than usual, and this persistent nausea and weakness… I’ve been in denial because I’m afraid to face the truth.

What if Mikhail doesn’t want a child?

He’s only just confessed his love for me. What if a baby changes everything? What if he isn’t ready to be a father?

Suddenly, I don’t feel so warm and satisfied.

Does this monster’s love come with conditions?

I fear I’m about to find out.

“You’re dressed up.”

I nearly jump out of my skin, whirling around to find Mikhail sitting at the dining table, newspaper in hand.

He looks criminally good in the preppy, navy-blue shirt and khaki cargo pants he’s wearing. His hair is perfectly tousled, and it looks like his stubble has grown a little more since last night. It should be illegal to look this good.

My body tingles all over from just looking at him. It’s downright criminal how handsome he is. But hey, this gorgeous specimen is all mine, so who am I to complain?

“I have a brunch date with your sister,” I say as I walk up to him and lean against the table. “She’s picking me up soon.”

I bite my tongue, holding back the pregnancy bombshell and our little detour to the hospital. I need to be a hundred percent sure before I drop that nuke on him.

My heart is doing the cha-cha against my ribcage, but I plaster on my best smile and pray it’s enough to keep him from suspecting that I’m nervous.

He closes the newspaper with a snap and tosses it beside me on the table. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I forgot,” I blurt out, my voice sharper than intended. “I mean…” I slide my legs between his, a distraction tactic worthy of a spy movie. “You know how… busy we were last night.”

He stares at me intently, but his blank mask makes it impossible for me to read him. After what feels like an eternity, he exhales. “Okay. But you’re taking your bodyguards with you.”

I go still. Shit, no. I can’t have Dimitri and Igor follow me. They’ll spill the beans before I even decide whether there are beans to spill.

“They can’t come. It’s a girls-only brunch. Sophia will be there too.” I release my secret weapon: the puppy dog eyes, cranked up to eleven. “It’ll be creepy with two hulking dudes lurking around. Everyone will be uncomfortable.”

“Oh, Kira is used to it. Sophia will have to adapt if she wants to keep hanging out with you,” he says, rising to his feet. “They’ll take separate cars and try to keep their distance.”

I jump up. “Mikhail, I don’t?—”

“There’s a war, Alya,” he cuts me off. “I have many enemies, and a good number of them have figured out you’re my weakness. I’m not letting you go anywhere alone until all of this is over.”

“And when will that be?” I mumble to myself.

“One more thing. Remember, we’re leaving for Russia tomorrow. Don’t worry about packing anything; we’ll buy whatever we need there.”

“My mom. I’m not leaving her here.” I have a million questions, but I was so caught up in the heat of the moment last night that I didn’t think to ask. Still, I meant what I said about him being my home. “With Akim still lurking around alive and well, there’s no telling when he’ll put her in his crosshairs. And trust me, with you gone, he definitely will.”

“We’ll bring her along.” His lips quirk with a smile. “I hope you don’t think I’m a controlling husband. Your safety is my top priority.”

I nod despite myself. “I know.”

He plants a kiss on my forehead. “See you later.”

I nod again, words failing me.

He sighs, but it’s not in relief or exasperation. It feels like there’s something he wants to say, but he’s holding back. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” I manage.

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