Page 65 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

The alternative? The thought of Hannah risking her life to bring this baby into the world is unthinkable.

I can’t allow it.

I’ve built my entire existence around control, around ensuring the survival of what’s mine. And now, standing on the precipice of a decision that could cost me either her or the baby, I feel that control slipping through my fingers like sand.

We reach the office, and I hold the door open for her. She steps inside without a word, her back straight but her movements careful, deliberate. The doctor stands as we enter, gesturing for us to take a seat across from him.

As I lower myself into the chair beside her, I glance at her face. There’s a quiet determination there, one that’s both maddening and strangely admirable.

The doctor clears his throat, glancing between us. “Mr. and Mrs. Sharov, I understand you’re here to discuss the next steps?”

Before I can respond, Hannah speaks.

“I want to keep the child,” she says, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. “Please detail all the measures we should take to avoid complications.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. My head snaps toward her, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“What?” I demand, my voice low and sharp.

She turns to me, her chin lifted in defiance. “I said I want to keep the baby. We’ve already talked about this, Makar.”

“Yes, I know—”

“You agreed to let me do it my way, but I need to knoweverythingI’m in for first.”

The doctor shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze darting between us, but I barely notice. My focus is entirely on her, on the fire in her eyes as she challenges me.

“Hannah,” I say, my voice hardening. “This isn’t about winning an argument. It’s about your life. Do you not understand the risks?”

“I understand perfectly,” she snaps. “I’m willing to take them. This baby is a part of me, Makar. I’m not giving them up.”

Her words ignite something in me—anger, frustration, fear. Beneath it all, there’s something else. Something raw and unsettling.

She means it.

This isn’t stubbornness or a refusal to yield; it’s a choice born of love and conviction. And it terrifies me.

“You’re willing to die for this?” I ask, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

Her gaze softens slightly, but the resolve remains. “I’m willing to fight for it,” she says quietly. “For as long as I can.”

The room falls silent, the weight of her words pressing down on me like a physical force.

The doctor clears his throat again, breaking the tension. “There are steps we can take to manage the risks,” he says carefully, his tone measured. “With close monitoring, proper medication, and lifestyle adjustments, we can give both mother and child the best chance.”

I look at him, my jaw tight. “What are the odds?”

The doctor hesitates, his gaze flicking to Hannah before returning to me. “They’re not guaranteed; but with vigilance, they’re not impossible.”

I lean back in my chair, my mind racing. The idea of losing Hannah—the one person who’s managed to tear down the walls I’ve spent years building—is unbearable. So is the thought of forcing her into a decision that would destroy her.

I exhale sharply, my gaze dropping to my hands.

Hannah reaches out, her fingers brushing against mine. The touch is light but grounding, pulling me from the chaos in my head.

“Makar,” she says softly, her voice steady but tinged with emotion. “I know you’re scared. I am too, but this baby… they’re worth fighting for.We’reworth fighting for.”

Her words settle over me like a balm, soothing and infuriating all at once.

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