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What was a child in his world? Another vulnerability for his enemies to exploit? A pawn in his power games? Or just another thing to protect?

I started shaking. Did I really know this man? I thought I did—thought beneath his cold exterior was a heart full of love. I thought his love for me was real, pure.

Now, I wasn't so sure.

If he found out I was pregnant, what would he do? Lock me down even tighter? Claim the child as his property, like he'd tried to claim me?

I thought of how he was with Anya, how much he loved her. But Anya was born in a safer time, before this war, before traitors and enemies circled like vultures. Now, the world was a minefield.

Could I bring an innocent life into this bloody, violent chaos?

I curled up on the bed, hugging my knees, fear and uncertainty choking me. I loved Gennady; that hadn't changed. But could love conquer everything? Could it keep a child safe?

I didn't know.

When night fell, I heard Gennady come back, his footsteps heavy, exhausted. I snapped to attention, diving under the covers and pretending to sleep.

The door creaked open. I felt him standing there, watching me. After a long moment, he stepped inside.

I heard him shrug off his coat, sit on the edge of the bed, and let out a deep, weary sigh.

"I'm sorry, ??? ???????," he whispered, his voice thick with pain and fatigue. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to protect you without hurting you."

My heart clenched, but I stayed still, barely breathing.

"I love you," he said, his voice fading to a whisper. "More than my own life. But I don't know if this love is right. Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just possessing you."

I felt his lips brush my forehead, soft and fleeting, then he stood and left, the door clicking shut.

The second he was gone, my tears broke free, flooding out. I loved him, even in my anger, even in my fear. I loved him so much it hurt.

But was it enough? Could love overcome everything standing between us? Could it give a child a safe future?

I touched my stomach, torn between love and terror.

I needed time to think, to decide whether to tell him, to figure out our future, our child's future.

But time was the one thing I didn't have.

The world outside was getting darker, and our relationship was a tangled mess. All I could do was pray I'd find the right answer before it was too late.

Chapter 20

Gennady

Over the next few days, I couldn't ignore the changes in Cassie. At breakfast, when the chef set down her favorite fried eggs, her face went pale, and she bolted to the bathroom, hand over her mouth. The sound of her retching twisted my gut.

"Cassie?" I knocked on the bathroom door, worry creeping into my voice. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, her voice weak, barely carrying through the door. "Just a little nauseous."

When she came out, she looked like a ghost—pale, shaky, her eyes dull. I reached to steady her, but she dodged my hand, her expression closed off.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," I said, trying to sound caring instead of pushy.

"No need," she replied, her tone flat, dismissive. "I'm just tired."

Every meal became a slow torture. She'd sit at the table, poke at her food a few times, then mutter something about practicing her violin and leave. Watching her waste away—cheeks hollow,dark circles deepening under her eyes—made my chest ache with a helpless kind of worry. But every time I brought up getting a doctor, she'd hit me with that cold stare, like my concern was an intrusion.