Page 67 of Secret Heir

“How long what?” I croak out, relishing the coolness of the rag against my heated face.

“How long have you been pregnant?”

I freeze. The washcloth slips from my numb fingers.

“I—I’m not—” I gasp out, the room feeling suddenly too small.

“Don’t lie to me, Ariana.” He crouches beside me, and I can see him putting the pieces together that now seem so obvious—the nausea, the exhaustion, the way I’ve been avoiding certain foods. “How long have you known?”

I want to keep this secret like I’ve hidden everything else. But what’s the point? He knows. I can see it in his eyes.

“A week,” I whisper, my mouth dry and sour. “I-I’ve known for a week.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move or speak. He just stares at me with those gray eyes. But then his face transforms. I’ve seen Maksim angry and I’ve seen him passionate and furious. But I’ve never seen pure, unfiltered joy on his face. His eyes go almost silver in the morning light. His mouth curves into a smile so genuine that it makes him look years younger. The hard lines around his eyes soften, and for just a moment I see the man I fell in love with eight years ago.

“A baby,” he breathes. His hand moves to my stomach. “We’re having a baby.” He laughs in delight.

My stomach roils. I open my mouth to speak but he pulls me into his arms before I can finish, lifting me off the bathroom floor like I weigh nothing. His embrace is tight, almost crushing, and I can feel him trembling.

“A baby,” he says again, his voice rough with emotion. He buries his face in my hair, and I feel his chest heaving against mine. “Aria, we’re having a baby.”

I should feel joy or fear or anything other than this hollow numbness. But all I feel is trapped.

I shove against his chest. “Let go of me.”

“What?” He pulls back just enough to look at my face, confusion replacing some of the joy. “Aria, what on earth?”

“I said let go.” I push harder, and he releases me. I stumble backward until I hit the wall. “This doesn’t change anything.”

“Doesn’t change—?” He stares at me like I’m speaking another language. “Aria, we’re having a baby. How does that not change everything?”

“It just makes everything worse.” My voice is rising, hysteria creeping in at the edges. “It’s just another way you’re trapping me here.”

His expression hardens. “I’m not trapping you. You’re the mother of my children. This is your home.”

“This is a prison!” I’m shouting now, and I don’t care if I wake Daniel. “You kidnapped me! You’re holding me here against my will! And now you’ve gotten me pregnant, and I’m trapped in every possible way!”

His eyes narrow into slits. “I didn’t ‘get you pregnant.’” He uses air quotes around the words. “We made a baby together. You’ve been a very willing and vocal participant in all of this.”

“Every time I had no choice!” I snap, my cheeks flaming at his point because yes, I have been willing but not to have a baby with him. “You’ve trapped me in every possible way. My son, my freedom, and now my body.”

“You trapped yourself.” His eyes are cold now, the joy completely gone. “You trapped yourself by running and keeping my son from me.”

“I ran to protect him!” I’m crying now, tears running down my face. “I ran to protect Daniel from⁠—”

“From what?” He’s right in front of me now, his hands gripping my shoulders. “Protect him from what, Aria? Tell me what you actually saw that night that made you feel you couldn’t come to me for help!”

The truth is right there, pressing against my teeth, demanding to be spoken. But I can’t.

“I can’t,” I whisper.

He releases me like I’ve branded him. “Then we have nothing more to discuss.” He steps back, a cool mask descending on his face. “You’re pregnant with my child. You’re staying here where I can protect you and make sure you and the baby are healthy and safe.”

I wipe harshly at my eyes. “I don’t want your protection.”

“That’s too fucking bad,” he says icily. “You’re getting it anyway.”

He walks out, leaving me alone in the bathroom with the knowledge that I’m more trapped than ever.