Page 72 of Cruel Submission
Right. My driver. The one I ordered to follow her everywhere after Gavriil’s men tried to grab her. Another thing I haven’t spoken to her about.
“You’re out here with Debra,” I say. Obvious. Stupid. But I don’t know how to navigate this—don’t know what she needs from me right now.
“Yes.” Her chin lifts. That stubborn angle I know too well. “I want to spend time with my sister. I want—” Her voice breaks. “I want to understand what happened to her. Where she’s been. Why you didn’t tell me she was here.”
Fair questions. All of them.
But before I can answer, my eyes catch on something else. The bag on the flagstones. Big canvas duffel, stuffed full, zipper straining.
My stomach drops.
“What’s that?” The words come out sharp.
She doesn’t answer. Just looks at the bag, then at me.
“Mirabel.” I take a step closer. “What’s in the bag?”
“What do you think?” Her voice is brittle. “Clothes. Toiletries. Everything I own.”
No. No, no, no.
“Why?” But I already know. Can see it in the set of her shoulders, the way she’s standing like she’s braced for impact.
She draws a breath but doesn’t say anything.
I can’t breathe. The air won’t come.
“You were leaving.” I hear myself say it. Confirming. Making it real.
“I couldn’t do it anymore!” It bursts out of her, all the emotion she’s been holding back. “I couldn’t stay in this house with you keeping secrets, with locked doors I’m not allowed through, with you going from cold to hot and back again. I didn’t know what we were. What I was to you.”
“You’re—”
“Your housekeeper?” She’s crying now, angry tears streaming down her face. “Am I your lover? Your fuck? What am I, Arkady? Because I can’t figure it out. You won’t let me in. You won’t talk to me. We have sex, and it’s intense and real, and then you disappear behind your walls again. And I just— I can’t take it anymore.”
Every word cuts. Because she’s right. I’ve been using her. Taking everything she gives while offering nothing but my body and my money in return.
“My mind is one big clusterfuck of confusion!” Her hands gesture wildly. “And I can’t— I can’t raise a baby in that kind of chaos.”
Everything stops.
“A baby.” My voice sounds strange. Distant.
She nods. Tears still falling, but her eyes locked on mine. Waiting for my reaction. Terrified of my reaction.
“My baby deserves better than that,” she whispers.
The words echo in my head. Baby. My baby. Deserves better.
“Your baby?” I force the question out.
She nods. Tears still falling, but her eyes locked on mine. “Yes. My baby. Your baby. I’m pregnant with your child, Arkady.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Arkady
Pregnant.
