Page 89 of Baby for the Bratva King

“Abortion feels wrong.”

“And what feels right?”

I stare at the test one last time before heading to the door. “Running away.”

I fly out of the bathroom, running straight past the booth, back outside onto the street.

This is bad.

Felix leads a Russian mafia in secret, and now I have his baby in my belly. What if this child inherits his fucked-up genes? What if it inherits mine?

This is a disaster waiting to happen. Felix and I don’t make good parents. We were never meant to run off into the sunset and do the family stuff.

Fleur catches up to me outside, grabbing my wrist before I run away.

“This is going to be okay.”

“A baby, Fleur,” I gasp, catching my breath. “I have human life inside of me.”

“Yeah, that’s usually what being pregnant means.”

“I don’t think I can go through with an abortion.”

“You sure?”

I rake a hand through my hair, letting the cold air dry the sweat running down my face. “I don’t know…”

“Do you know what raising a child means, Saskia?”

“Yeah—life-long dedication.”

“And can you give the child that?”

A tear rolls down my cheek and I let it fall.

It’s like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Running just reinforces the boundaries, making everything feel more suffocating.

I stare at the flow of traffic, lights becoming a blur. My vision is distorted. The cars blend into one another the longer I stare, and the noise becomes unbearable. The horns, the sound of passing cars; people walking past on the sidewalk talking to friends. The noise becomes overwhelming and there’s no escape.

I stumble into the wall, chest heaving. My own breathing is amplified, drowning out the other noises, but this is just as bad.

I’m losing my breath; the fucking will to live. The world is moving around me, but I’m no longer part of it. I never was. I stopped living when my mother died. I remember how safe it felt to be near her. I was too young to remember anything else, but my body still holds onto that feeling of being safe, and I think that’s why I’m so determined to fight today.

Deep down, I know how it feels to be safe, and I’m starting to feel like that with Felix.

But hanging around with a mafia leader makes me incredibly selfish—no different from my father.

“You’re okay,” comforts Fleur, grabbing my hand and squeezing. She guides me away from the sidewalk, down a side street that has less cars and pedestrians. “You haven’t had a panic attack since⁠—”

“Yesterday,” I say, flashing her a grave look. “When I saw father at the launch party.” I crash into the wall, slowly reclaiming my breath after the episode. “I don’t think I can give the child what it needs.”

“Love? You have a lot of that to give, Saskia. Perhaps too much.”

“I’m a mess and I don’t know if that will ever change.”

Fleur looks at me, unconvinced. “I saw the way you danced in the studio before London.”

“Yeah, what a fucking wrecking ball. I can’t even throw on a pair of kneepads.”