Page 39 of Forced Innocent Bratva Bride

I lowered my head, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Great,” I whispered under my breath.

No one told me that prenatal care would be so demanding and exhausting. I couldn't do the normal things that I would usually do without thinking about my health—not for me but for the baby in my womb: Alexei's legacy and my happiness.

*****

Later that afternoon, I had a scheduled consultation with a nutritionist which my husband had insisted that I honor.

I didn't see the need to do so because I'd always been blessed with a fast metabolism, and I never really had to worry about what I ate. The only reason I worked out regularly was because I wanted to stay healthy…and also to maintain my alluring physique. But never because I wanted to lose weight.

However, I was forced to meet up with this nutritionist who'd guide my diet, dictating what I should eat and what I shouldn't.

In her office, I sat across from her, hands folded in my lap with a straight posture as I listened to her “expert” advice.

She was in her mid-forties with fine auburn hair that fell loosely over her shoulders, but all I could hear was her monologue as she droned on about the importance of folic acid and iron for pregnant women. Honestly, I wasn't paying attention half the time. Well, until she made a comment I couldn't help but respond to.

The stern-looking woman peered at me over the rim of her glasses, her clipboard in hand. “And, of course, you'll want to avoid foods that are high in mercury, like sushi and raw fish.”

My brows arched at her words, and I felt a pang of annoyance. Why would she tell me to avoid one of my favorite foods? No, I wouldn't have this one.

“Hmm.” I furrowed my brows, shaking my head in a decisive motion. “No,” I said, my tone firm. “That's not gonna work for me.”

She cast a stern look at me. “Lemme guess, you love sushi.”

“Yes, I do,” came my swift response. “And that's why I can't do what you're asking of me.”

“Lorena, you've been zoning out this whole time, but the mention of sushi suddenly gets your attention?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, her tone laced with skepticism.

“I'm sorry, but sushi is one of the things I have a hard time resisting,” I said, a sheepish grin playing on my lips.

“Well, I'm afraid you're gonna have to resist it,” she replied, her voice firm and unapologetic. “It's not a good idea during pregnancy. The mercury in the fish can be harmful to the baby.”

I let out a frustrated sigh, eyes dropping to the floor in dismay. I'd always eaten whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, but lately, it just seemed like the best things were off-limits.

An idea sparked in my head, and I returned my gaze to her, my face lighting up with anticipation. “What about cooked sushi?” I asked, hoping for a compromise.

She lifted an eyebrow, plucking off her glasses. “I see what you're doing.”

“I'm just trying to maintain a balance here so both the baby and I get what we want.” I shrugged my shoulders.

She stared at me for a moment before responding, “Well, cooked sushi is better than raw sushi….”

“You see!” I exclaimed in excitement, eyes widening in relief.

She continued, ignoring my brief moment of happiness. “But it's still not the best choice here. Sushi is off-limits,” she declared with finality, leaving no room for arguments.

My shoulders slumped, and I reclined in my chair, a subtle scowl settling on my face.

“There are other foods that are much safer and healthier for you and the baby,” she said, her voice calm as she ignored the frown on my face.

I endured another hour of her lecturing, learning about the supposed perfect foods for women in my condition. Honestly, I wasn't particularly thrilled by any of them.

*****

I had one more appointment for the day, one more professional to see, then I could head back home and rest.

Alexei would've followed me to the hospital, but he got caught up with work. However, the two bodyguards he'd instructed to never leave my side took their jobs more seriously than I thought.

They drove me to the hospital and walked into the building with me in the middle—one in front, one behind. It was embarrassing, the way that protected me like I was the president's daughter.

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