Page 44 of Beautiful Agony

I flipthrough the mail in my hands, my heart skipping when I spot Dr. Chen's letterhead. My fingers tremble as I hold up the envelope. "Vadim..."

He looks up from his desk, tension immediately tightening his shoulders when he sees what I'm holding. Rising, he crosses the room to stand behind me, his chest pressed against my back. His hands cover mine as I start to open the letter.

"Whatever it says," I whisper, "we'll face it together."

The paper rustles as I unfold it, Dr. Chen's precise handwriting filling the page. My eyes scan until I find the key information: "Blood tests indicate conception approximately 6 weeks prior to testing date..."

Vadim and I both freeze, mental calculations spinning. Six weeks before the test would place conception right before Paris. Before everything went wrong.

It was that night when he first told me about his mother after he gave me Mom's necklace, when I saw past his carefullyconstructed walls to the wounded boy beneath. When I realized he wasn't just a pakhan, but a man fighting to save others from monsters like Kirsan.

I remember how desperately I wanted to comfort him, to show him he deserved love. And I remember how we made love. First on his desk, and then again in the shower.

Vadim lets out a shaky breath, his arms tightening around me.

"Six weeks," he murmurs, relief evident in his voice. "We didn't make our baby on the stairs."

But where Vadim finds relief, all I find is a new terror as a different memory washes over me.

The sharp crack of gunfire. The triumphant smile on Irina's face before blood starts spreading across her body. Her eyes meeting mine as she fell. Her blood soaking through my wedding dress as I screamed. And the light fading from her eyes as Vadim dragged me away.

The memory hits me with such force that I have to grip the edge of Vadim's desk to stay upright. My other hand instinctively moves to my stomach.

My legs give out, and Vadim guides me into his chair.

That means…My breath catches as I think.Our baby was already growing inside of me in Paris.

"I could've lost both of you," I whisper, my hand pressed protectively over my still-flat belly. "If Sayanaa's men had better aim... if we had just been a few seconds slower..."

Vadim kneels before me, his large hands covering mine. "But we did make it."

I can't stop the memories rushing back at me now. The way Sayanaa's eyes narrowed in the cathedral. The men trying to kill us on the Seine. Irina's blood on my hands.

Our child's first moments were surrounded by death and violence.

Even if they weren't conceived in it.

Vadim pulls me close into his embrace, his thumb stroking over my shoulder as I shudder.

Even as his touch warms me, I can't help but notice how carefully he moves, like he's afraid of breaking me. The same hesitation I've felt from him since returning to Pankration is still there.

We may have bridged the physical distance between us, but something still feels fragile.

His gray eyes meet mine, and I see the guilt we're both carrying.

"You're still afraid of hurting me," I say softly. It's not a question.

His fingers tighten slightly on mine. "And you're still blaming yourself for everything that's happened."

And that's the truth.

We're both still holding back the deeper hurts. Physical intimacy was easier than facing the emotional wreckage we're both carrying.

"We're so worried about hurting each other." I try to smile, but it wavers. "But we can't even stop hurting ourselves."

Vadim presses his forehead to mine, and I feel the slight tremor in his body. "We'll figure it out,zvyozdochka. I promise."

I nod as I turn my attention back to the pile of mail.

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