Page 105 of Bratva Knight

“Put her on the phone!”

The woman yelped in surprise at my outburst but I didn’t care. “Darling, here. He answered. He’s on the phone.” Was she talking to Tatiana? Why wasn’t she responding?

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to soften my voice. “Tati?”

Still nothing.

“What’s going on?” I demanded. “Why isn’t she talking?”

“I-I’m incredibly sorry, sir—”

“Sorry? Sorry for what? She’s okay, isn’t she?”Please, God, tell me she’s okay.If she wasn’t…if something happened to her…if she died…

I shook my head. If she died, I’d follow her.

“Tatiana is okay,” Maureen said, and I released a huge sigh of relief.

“And the baby?” When there was no answer, I asked again, more firmly. “And. The. Baby?”

“You should get here as quickly as you can.” Then she hung up.

No. No, no, no. I threw the phone and punched the steering wheel, slamming my foot down on the accelerator.

My mind was going crazy, coming up with different scenarios, each one worse than the one before it. She was only eight months pregnant. It was too early for her to be in labour.

Guilt overwhelmed me. Why? Why did I ignore her calls? Why did I turn off my phone?

When I got to the hospital, I drove right up to the front doors and jumped out of the car, leaving the driver's side door wide open and the engine still running. I bolted inside, looking around frantically for some sort of nurses station or reception desk.

A woman standing in front of a set of double doors saw me and her eyes widened. “Are you Nikolai?”

“Yes.” I rushed over. “Where is she? Where is Tatiana?”

“This way.” She pushed a button on the wall and the doors swung open. I followed her, right on her heels, so close I was practically her goddamn shadow.

Why is she walking so damn slow? Hurry up!

Worry clutched at my chest, a building pressure making it hard for me to breathe, to calm down. God, why didn’t I just answer her fucking calls?

Eventually, she stopped in front of a closed door and turned to look at me, her eyes filled with sadness. “I feel I should probably prepare you—”

I don’t have time for this.

“Move.” I pushed her out of the way and opened the door, walking in.

Tatiana was sitting up in the bed, slowly rocking back and forth as she stared at the small little bundle in her arms. She was alone. There was no else in the room, except for them. A blanket covered her lower half and she was still wearing her street clothes, not a hospital gown. Whatever happened must have happened quickly. Her hair stuck to her forehead, drenched in sweat.

The relief I felt at seeing her alive and well was short-lived.

She didn’t acknowledge me, didn’t lift her head to look at me. She just kept staring down at the baby in her arms, like they were the only two people in the world.

I moved closer, approaching her like a skittish animal. “Tati?”

Nothing.

“Tatiana?”

She didn’t move, didn’t speak. She just rocked back and forth, back and forth. I stopped at her side and looked down at the baby.

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