Page 38 of The Russian Retribution

“You watch your tongue,” I snap. “I am still your Godmother and I deserve your respect! It’s not my fault we’re in this fucking mess. Maybe if you’d advised my father better or told him to pay off those damn debts, then the Cartel wouldn’t even be an issue now!”

“Why you little?—”

“Stop!” Erik suddenly surges forward, grasping my arm and pushing me backward as he presses his other hand into Viktor’s chest and shoves him back. “You watch your tone when speaking directly to the Godmother, do you understand? You may have been the old underboss and you may have taken a bullet for this family, but you are crossing a line!”

I stumble back from Erik’s push, but the ground remains unstable beneath my feet so I stumble backward again. And then again. The pressure in my mind becomes overwhelming and I briefly close my eyes.

It’s impossible to open them again.

“Am I dying?”

“No, dear.” The doctor laughs, scribbling on the clipboard in her hands. “Far from it. Your blood sugar and iron levels are very low, which is likely the reason you fainted. We’ve got you on this” —she taps the line running into my arm— “to get your levels back up, and I’m going to prescribe some supplements. Managing your stress levels will also be beneficial.”

“My stress levels?” I roll my eyes with a soft groan, glancing around the hospital room I woke up in an hour ago. “That’s going to be impossible.”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to find a way, dear. Because when we were running the blood tests, we found something else. Anastasia, are you aware that you are pregnant?”

“What?” My eyes snap back to her as my stomach feels like it’s about to plummet out of my ass. “Pregnant?”

“Pregnant?” Faina stands in the half-open doorway with two cups of coffee in her hands.

I can’t look at her. I’m too focused on the doctor.

“I’ll take that as a no,” she murmurs, adjusting something on her clipboard. “Given the alcohol levels in your blood, I suspected this would be a shock.”

“Oh, my God,” I whisper. Trembling fingers press to my lips. “I have no idea. I was—I was drinking earlier tonight!”

“It’s okay.” The doctor reaches out and touches my shoulder. “This early, it’s common when a pregnancy is a surprise, but I would advise against alcohol consumption in the future. You’re around five weeks along, nearly six. So again, you need to manage your stress levels and I’ll prescribe a few prenatal meds to help get your levels back up to where they need to be.”

She says more to me, and I watch her lips move but the words mean nothing.

Pregnant.

How am I pregnant?

Well, I know how.

I just didn’t think anything of it. My periods have been so infrequent since my father passed due to stress that I stopped thinking about it. I stopped thinking about anything in regard to myself because it felt selfish.

And suddenly, I’m here.

Pregnant.

“Thank you, doctor,” Faina says, setting the coffee cups down on the tray that stretches across my bed. “We’ll be in touch.”

“Of course.” My doctor smiles warmly and steps away, closing the door behind her.

“Anastasia!” Faina hisses, clutching at my hand and perching on the edge of my bed next to me.

“Faina.”

“Pregnant!”

“I know.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“Please stop saying it.”

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