Andrei

 

Earlier today, after I ate lunch but before I called Aleksey, I had gone to the bathroom using Kelly’s bathroom. It wasn’t something I typically did, considering just how many bathrooms there were in the house. But I had, and I noticed one of the pregnancy tests had been opened.

 

Kelly had taken a test. And while it was possible it was negative, I doubted that was the case. I had noticed for a few days now, when palming her breasts, just how full they were getting, larger than before, and it wasn’t from weight gain, as far as I could tell. Plus, her skin looked even more beautiful, too. She wasn’t the kind of girl to wear a ton of makeup. Compared to the other women I had been with over the years, that was a refreshing change, but it also made that change all the more noticeable. Her hair also looked thicker, fuller. All of these signs led me to believe she was finally pregnant.

 

But did she tell me she was pregnant? No. Did she even mention she had taken a test, regardless of the result? No.

 

And here she was, questioning me about my job.

 

Yeah, so I was pissed, and yeah, that was why I told her about killing the man. I wanted to rile her. I wanted to rage, but not against her. I had been attacked, and I had defended myself. And now Kelly was attacking me in a fashion, too, and I did not want to have to defend myself against her.

 

But I would if I had to.

 

After I pushed her onto the bed, I pulled off her shorts and lifted her tank top off over her head. Kelly didn’t resist and even lifted her butt to help me remove her shorts. She definitely didn’t look pregnant yet, but she did cover her abdomen with her arms, probably instinctively.

 

“When were you going to tell me?” I asked in a low voice, staring at her flat stomach.

 

Kelly glanced away. She took a shuddering breath, and tears streamed down her face. “I…I just found out. But…but I didn’t…I didn’t know how to tell you.”

 

Something inside of me crumbled. I couldn’t explain what I was feeling, and I didn’t want to. There was something about her that drew me in. Maybe it was because she was good and kind. Maybe it was because she didn’t belong in my world. Maybe it was because she was the only woman who cared about me, not my looks or money or position.

 

All I did was focus on her. Ignoring her tears, I kissed her. Much like how I had pushed her down, it was gentle and not too forceful. It was short, too, and maybe tender. A single kiss, one that broke me apart, shattering me. What was I doing with her? What was I doing to her? She was torn, I could tell, and, frankly, so was I.

 

Kelly kept on crying silently. In all honestly, she wasn’t obligated to have sex with me at all, and that notion had me pulling up and away from her. I cupped her cheeks and asked her with my eyes if she wanted this.

 

She stopped crying. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and opened them again. She stared up at me, and I watched her, waiting for her reaction. If she pushed me away, I would respect her. I would leave and see to her medical care and follow out the rest of the contract with her from a respectful distance. We would revert to business partners.

 

Revert to business partners. When had that line been crossed? Because we had sex more than the four-time limit? Because of the shared meals? Our conversations?

 

All of it. And then some.

 

Did I want to go back, to make things solely business between us? My hard, throbbing cock wanted her, but what did I want?

 

I wanted her. Again and again. It was so easy for me to find women, but I never talked to them about anything important. I never talked to any of them about work, so in that regard, they were identical to Kelly, but I had confided in Kelly far more than any of the others. She knew which school I wanted to send my son to. She knew which tutors I had already lined up, which activities and sports I hoped he would partake in. She knew other matters, too, like that I had a dog growing up and had thought many times about getting another one but never had. She knew I preferred to drive stick shift and was willing to teach her if she wished to learn. She knew my taste in movies and music, which was something I didn’t broadcast. I did not often make time for such trivialities, but we had actually watched a few movies together. And I had talked to her, albeit with hardly any details, about my parents. She understood loss. She didn’t look at me with pity but with sympathy.

 

My time with her was changing me.

 

But was that a good thing? I could not risk being softened. I had to be hard, to be brutal, to be ruthless, if I were to have my revenge. Afterward, we could watch movies and listen to music and dance and fuck all we wanted. After. Not yet. Not now.

 

Yes, I did want her around. She kept me in touch with my humanity. She would help prevent me from becoming the monster Mikhail Vasilev was. Maybe I shouldn’t go after his family after all. Should one family rise and grow on the bones of another? It was what Vasilev had done to my family. Did I want to be the same as him? Having Aleksey seduce a daughter was one thing, but could I really have her and the others killed to get back at Vasilev? Before, that hadn’t been a question. Now, however, I was rethinking things.

 

If Vasilev made a move on me, I would not hesitate to defend myself and my people, but he hadn’t. Yes, I was sure that was only a matter of time. I hadn’t gained my father’s men by waiting around, though. I tended to act first. Better to plan and strike than to be hit first and be left scrambling to defend yourself.

 

But my son would be here in eight or so months. That changed everything. I didn’t know what to do, what to plan, but I knew I would not hesitate to give my life to protect my son’s.

 

And to protect Kelly’s, too.

 

I stared at her, at her beauty. After a moment, she reached up, and I steeled myself, anticipating another slap. Instead, she caressed my cheek. I nuzzled against her palm and turned toward her hand to kiss her. Kelly sighed, the sound happy and content, and something inside of me wound up tightly.

 

Nothing would happen to her. Nothing would ever happen to Kelly or to the child she carried. Boy or girl. Nothing would ever happen to Kelly after she gave birth. I would protect her like she was family.

 

How had this happened? Kelly was never supposed to mean anything. And I knew that sounded terrible, but it had been meant to keep her safe. Involving a woman in my life specifically with the intent of impregnating her meant she could possibly be targeted as it was, but if that woman should actually mean something more to me like Kelly did, that introduced a whole new level of terror that could be brought down on both her and me. One of Vasilev’s men had already tailed her, followed her, instructed her to give me a threating message. She was already in the crosshairs. If Vasilev should learn she was pregnant…I was willing to kill a dozen or even more to protect her.

 

I hadn’t meant to fall for her. With all of my carefully laid out plans, the idea of that happening had never occurred to me. But she brought out a side of me that I hadn’t thought still lived. A part of me — the carefree and easygoing side — had died when my parents had. I used to enjoy my studies, but I had friends and enjoyed fun and games. After their deaths, I went almost a year before I laughed again. I gave up my school, left behind my friends, and went into hiding. I didn’t bother to make new friends. I didn’t bother to have fun or to enjoy life. All I did was work hard on honing my skills and daydreaming and planning for the day when I would take down Vasilev.

 

Yet here Kelly was, bringing it back to life. Bringing me back to the light.

 

My chest was feeling tight. Nervous. Uneasy. On edge. I hadn’t felt like this since the day my parents were murdered.

 

Kelly sat up and stripped me. Once I was naked, she removed her bra and underwear. She traced my lips with her finger, and I kissed it. Her eyes closed, and I brought her finger into my mouth, sucking it. I would make myself forget my worries. I would make her forget everything, too. We didn’t need anything but each other.

 

She was pregnant, not made of glass, but things were different this time around. I took things slowly, gently, tenderly. It wasn’t about fucking. It wasn’t about the money.

 

The kisses, the licks, the tiny bites, the rubbing, the scratches, the touching…neither of us could get enough of each other, and I didn’t last long at all, but as soon as we finished round one, round two started.