Page 92 of Beautiful Scar

“I got you, baby,” he says, pulling me against him, hugging me close with those strong arms. “God, baby, I got you, I got you, I’ll never leave you again.”

My body shakes as I cry against his chest, and I just keep telling him, over and over again.

“I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m so sorry. I’m pregnant.”

Chapter 29

Tigran

I’m aware of every motion in the house. Every guard, every staff member, every coming and going. It’s all a swirl of activity in my head. They’re like little astral objects flitting around the solar system.

And all of it orbits her.

My wife. My Dasha.

Ever since the attack five days ago, she’s become the center of my universe.

“You can stop staring at me, you know,” she says, stretched out on the couch and peeking at me through one eye. “I am trying to nap.”

“I’m being quiet.” I lean back in my chair, arms crossed. My laptop’s left open and forgotten on the side table. We’re in her suite now, since the bulletproof windows are finally installed and they’re working on refitting the rest of the house. The front door’s being reinforced, the back door is now an inch of steel plating, and the security system got an upgrade with a fleet of questionably legal drones patrolling all night long.

The neighbors probably hate me. They can fuck right off.

“You’re breathing.” She pushes herself up with a sigh. “No, you’re snorting.”

“I’m perfectly still and tranquil like a calm beach.”

“You’re a typhoon.” She winces as she adjusts herself. I have to resist the urge to run to her side. I’ve already gotten shouted down several times for being a little too overbearing, and I’m trying to give her a small bit of space. That’s not easy for me right now. “I can’t sleep anyway. Every time I close my eyes, I keep seeing him.”

She doesn’t have to specify who. I get up and sit at her side, pulling her close against me. She sighs, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“He made his choice,” I tell her, even though it isn’t going to help. “He was a good man.”

“He shouldn’t have died for me,” she whispers, blinking away tears.

She’s wrong about that. I’d gladly sacrifice a thousand Vitos if it means she gets to breathe for ten more seconds. He was an important member of my household and a good friend, and I’ll honor his memory for the rest of my life.

But I’m glad the fucker’s dead.

Because it means my wife and my child live.

“He did what he felt was right. We should respect his choice and make sure he didn’t waste his life.”

“I know, and I will. It’s just all so fucking—” She swallows against the tears. My strong little kitten. “I don’t even know how it happened.”

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

She nods miserably. “You’re really doing this?” she asks, shifting her position so she can frown at me. “My dad’s seriously coming down here?”

I check my phone. “He’ll be here in an hour.”

She gets up and paces away nervously. I’m tempted to tell her to keep her head down. All I can see are dangers now: snipers, attackers, murderers, thieves in the night. I can’t be more than a room away from her at all times, or else I start to feel itchy all over.

I failed her once. I nearly got her killed because I wasn’t there with her. I almost lost my entire world, all because I wasn’t paying enough attention.

It won’t happen again.

I draw her back and pull her into my lap. I press a hand to her belly where our child is growing and let her lean against my chest. I hold her like that, and we breathe together in silence. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but all I can see is a little family of three: a child and two doting parents, and it’s beautiful.

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