Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Any amusement from Ghost’s show is squashed when we enter a large, heavily-manned gate several miles later. The compound we just left was massive, but this residence is beyond huge. It is a mansion fit for a movie star.
“This is where he brings all his Marys,” Ghost advises, his voice barely a whisper. “You will be safe here until…”
Like the worst cliffhanger of all time, he leaves his reply hanging when the SUV’s door is pulled open, and a nun gestures for me to follow her. “Come, quickly.”
When I sling my eyes to Ghost, he jerks up his chin, wordlessly demanding that I follow her orders. “No one will hurt you here. I promise.”
Despite his pledge, my legs shake when I follow the nun into a residence far too opulent for the number of armed guards surrounding it. The windows aren’t boarded up, the walls have pops of color with multiple paintings, and even the bedspreads aren’t bland and white, but it still feels more like a graveyard than a home.
When I enter a room at the end of a grand staircase, my eyes naturally veer to the edges of the bed.
My heart beats triple time when I realize there are no stirrups.
“Lunch is served at noon. You’ll have chores to complete but nothing too strenuous.” The nun with kind eyes shifts on her feet to face me. “We can’t be exhausting you in your condition.”
“Especially if she’s carrying the future heir of the Bobrov realm.”
That didn’t come from the nun. It came from outside my room, and although his accent is as thick as Ghost’s, it is too tainted with haughtiness to mistake them as being the same person.
I genuinely want to be sick when my husband enters the room. He walks with the same arrogant strut he used the time he stomped on me, but there’s something different with his expression this time around. I grow worried he’s not looking at me as if I’m pure, but on closer inspection, I notice he appears more pleased than annoyed.
My thighs involuntarily shake when he murmurs with a smirk, “Perhaps we should conduct another test? We don’t want you here under false pretenses.”
“The doctor already did two tests.”
“What was that?” he asks, mocking the weakness of my reply.
“I said… the doctor already did two tests.” This reply is louder but still shaky.
“And what does that mean for me?”
When I shoot my eyes to the nun, seeking help, bile scorches the back of my throat.
We’re the only two people in the room.
I slowly return my eyes to Kirill when he mutters, “Although tempted, miscarriage rates are higher with old-school methods, so perhaps we should just use one of these.” A brick lodges in my throat when he holds up a pregnancy test. “We wouldn’t want any mishaps like last time, would we?”
Like a coward without a voice, I shake my head.
“Good.” His smirk is evil. “Then get a wiggle on. I have other pressing matters to handle.”
I almost hyperventilate when he guides me into an attached bathroom before taking up station outside the door, but as quickly as my panic rises, it is wiped out from beneath me when I spot the top drawer in the vanity. It is positioned right next to the toilet, within easy reaching distance but blocked by a tiled wall.
Kirill can’t see me.
After removing the pregnancy test from the packet, I sit on the toilet, then pull open the drawer. I breathe in relief when I notice rows of sample cups full of urine.
With a wad of toilet paper, I pick up the first one, remove the cap, then dip the pregnancy test into it.
Two lines display almost immediately.
I almost store the sample cup away before remembering Ghost’s request for me to pour some of the urine into the toilet bowl each time I use it. I’m not exactly sure how much is needed to give my urine traces of the HCG, but since there are approximately a dozen cups in the drawer, I pour half of the one I used into the bowl before storing it away, flushing, then exiting the bathroom.
The corners of Kirill’s lips lift when his eyes drop to the positive test in my hand. “Very good.”
I slump onto my bed in a sweaty heap when his approval is quickly chased by his exit out of my room.
42
KATIE
Ghost’s assumption that Kirill would want to parade me around wasn’t a lie. Although he hasn’t told people I am pregnant, he’s introduced me to high-up dignitaries in Russia, political personnel who happily turn a blind eye to the illegal activities happening right in front of them at the club we visited, and he has taken me to eat at an actual restaurant twice.
I’m being paraded around for the world to see. It just appears as if no one is looking for me. They’re polite and say hello, but other than that, they keep their focus on Kirill.