Page 30 of Dark Bratva Christmas
“I don't recall asking,” I retort. “You're my wife now. People will be expecting to see you at my side at events like this.”
“Do you really think that's a good idea?” Catarina shoots back at me with a sharp tone. She sets her fork down with a clank. “I thought there was danger? And won’t I look foolish moving on right after—”
“They'll believe it because we'llmakethem believe it,” I cut her off. “This is why we got married in the first place. We need to show our enemies that we are united, and we can't do that by staying here all day. We're going, and I will have plenty of security in place.”
“First of all, I never agreed to marry you. Second, you can't control everything that I do,” Catarina snaps, shaking her head. “You seem to think you're the only person who matters in thisrelationship, but it’ll takebothof us to convince everyone else this is real.”
“You're right, you never agreed. That didn't stop it from happening though. Did it? When you signed that certificate, you signed yourself over to me. Period.”
“You keep talking like you’re in charge,” she sneers. “You forget I still have a voice in this.”
“You do have a voice,” I say, letting a smirk curl my lips. “I just decide when you get to use it. And as we saw last night, I canmakeyou use it.”
“You’re unbelievable.” Catarina’s skin turns red and she quickly looks down at her plate.
“And yet, here you are, wearing my ring and robe, eating my food.” I stare at her, feeling a familiar flame of excitement in my chest. “We're going to the ball. End of discussion. Be prepared to talk about baby clothes and Lamaze classes with certain people, too.”
We sit in silence for a few moments, and she stares at her plate, her appetite clearly gone.
“Maybe you should start practicing the smile you’ll give when someone congratulates you,” I add, my tone teasing. “You’ll have to look like you’re happy to be the mother of my heir.”
“That’ll take some acting,” she mutters.
“Then it’s a good thing you’re so goddamn dramatic.”
“We don't even know for sure that I'm pregnant,” Catarina says, shaking her head.
“We'll find out soon enough.” I smile at her and watch the dread cross her face. “Dr. Ivakin is coming to see you today.”
Her eyes widen. “Why couldn’t you just order me a pregnancy test?”
“Because I prefer to be as concrete as possible. Surely…you’re not scared of a little truth?” I taunt her. “If you are indeed carrying my child, you might as well get used to me knowing everything that happens to you. Every breath, every heartbeat, every meal will be closely monitored for the next nine months—and possibly beyond. Maybe I want two heirs.” I blurt out the last part in a way that even has my chef making a face. It was too far.
Catarina opens her mouth to argue, but instead mutters under her breath as she stands to her feet, shoving her plate away. I chuckle as she storms off, my robe swallowing her tiny little body.
It’s almost endearing, how easy she is to piss off.
I finish my breakfast, keeping a close eye on my phone to make sure I don't get any notifications about her sneaking away, before going to my office and emailing the event organizer to let them know we're coming.
While I am working on a few remaining tasks, I hear a knock on my office door letting me know that the doctor is here.
Dr. Ivakin is older than the dirt beneath the city. He was already old when I was a child and has been working for my family for as long as I can remember. God knows how old he truly is; nonetheless, he is still working, thankfully.
“It’s good to see you,” I say as I greet the old man, rising from my desk. He just grunts and holds out his doctor's bag, not saying much as I lead him through the halls to Catarina's room. As expected, she's sitting by the window with a book in hand.
Catarina jumps to her feet and sets the book down, nervously wringing her hands in front of her as the two of us walk into the room.
“Catarina might be pregnant and we just need confirmation of that from you,” I instruct Ivakin.
He sets his bag down on the dresser and digs through it. “I don't have any tests on me, but I can take a vial of her blood and use that. I should have the results in a few hours and I can call you to let you know.”
“Do whatever you need,” I say, walking over to Catarina and placing both hands on her shoulders as I sit her back down in the chair.
Ivakin approaches with some tools in hand and sets them down on a table nearby before giving her a cursory exam.
He listens to her heart rate through his stethoscope, writing it down in his notebook before taking her blood pressure. He checks her eyes and her throat like she's going in for an annual physical exam.
The entire time, she’s dead quiet.
