Page 77 of Twisted Empire: King's Gambit

The scent it like a dam breaking. Emotions flood in, swirling, chaotic: excitement, fear, love, uncertainty. I’m pregnant. Holy shit, I’m actually pregnant.

As the reality of those two words sinks in, my heart is a chaotic symphony, pounding in my chest as if it’s trying to escape.

For a moment, I feel utterly overwhelmed, as though the walls of the penthouse are closing in on me, the New York skyline outside the window suddenly too vivid, too close.

I take a deep breath and steady myself. I can’t afford to lose my composure, not when there’s so much at stake. Still holding the envelope like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Because it is.

“What do you give a man who has everything?” Natalya’s question echoes in my head, and I can’t help but laugh—a jittery, disbelieving sound. It’s ironic how life has just handed me the answer.

I don’t know how Mikhail’s going to react. Will he be ecstatic? Scared shitless? Both?

This will be my gift to him this upcoming weekend. I could give him a thousand expensive gifts, but none would be as meaningful as the tiny life taking form inside of me.

I sit down at the kitchen island, my fingers trembling as they pull the ultrasound image out of the envelope. There it is: a tiny blob, a mere smudge on the screen, but already so full of promise. My eyes burn, and I wipe at them impatiently.

God, get a grip, Gabriette.

My mind races through scenarios, imagining his reaction—will his face light up with that rarely seen boyish joy, or will his eyes darken, clouded by the insecurities and fears that have haunted him for years?

I think about Mikhail, the steely-eyed Pakhan who’s known for his ruthless control over both his empire and his emotions. Then I think about myself—my newfound role that goes beyond just being a wife. A mother.

It’s terrifying, yet strangely empowering.

But then it hits me—I haven’t had my shot in months. How could I have been so careless, so wrapped up in everything else, that I let something this huge slip through the cracks? I feel a surge of guilt, followed by a stab of anxiety.

What if Mikhail thinks this is a trap? Something planned?

No, I can’t go down that road. Not now. I have to believe in us, in him. In the fact that, despite all our emotional walls, the goddamn criminal empire we’re tangled in, we love each other. And this baby is a part of that love, planned or not.

A new sense of resolve settles in my heart. This is happening. We are having a baby. And I’ll be damned if I let fear taint something this beautiful.

I place the ultrasound image back into the envelope, already envisioning the look of surprise and hopefully joy on Mikhail’s face when he opens it. This will be my gift to him this weekend. In this crazy, messed-up world we live in, what better surprise could there be than the promise of new life?

So I tuck the envelope away, hiding it in the same drawer as his gift from Natalya. This weekend, our lives could change forever, in the most beautiful or terrifying way.

MIKHAIL

It’s the night before I turn 36 years old and we’re settled into the low-lit ambiance of an Italian restaurant that’s exclusive enough to require a month’s advance reservation. Inside reeks of old money and even older traditions—the perfect place where two leaders in the criminal underworld would feel at home.

The air is thick with the aroma of aged wine and truffle oil, expensive scents that makes your senses sit up and take notice.

With Sinatra providing a low soundtrack to the intimate conversations around us. It’s the kind of place that’s accustomed to hosting discussions that should never leave its walls.

Lorenzo, recently appointed Capo and riding that high, leans back in his leather chair, swirling a glass of some ridiculously expensive Barolo. It’s strange to think that we’ve both grown into roles that once belonged to men we looked up to, men who molded us into the leaders we are today.

“So, what did Lombardi have to say about the man who snuck into his home and killed his daughter?” Lorenzo asks. “I don’t see him as doing this. He’s too invested in the agreement with the Bratva.”

I sigh. “The fucker claims not to know but had someone comb Sophia’s entire bedroom. He said he would get back to me within the week with answers.”

I don’t fucking get this. Someone from my past is trying to ruin me, but the question is who? I have many enemies, so finding this out isn’t exactly an easy task.

“So, you and Gabriette. Heard you two are more than just playing house,” Lorenzo says, a playful edge to his voice. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

I can’t help but crack a smile. “I never thought there would be a day,” I admit. “But Gabriette... She’s different. She’s got me saying and doing things I never thought I would.”

He chuckles, lifting his glass.

“That’s how you know it’s real, Mikhail,” he muses, looking genuinely happy for me. “If you’ve found even a shred of what our parents had, you’ve got to hold on to that.”

---