At three in the morning, the streets of Manhattan were still bustling, though not nearly as busy as it usually was during the day. While most were asleep at this unreasonable hour, Lauren was hunched over a toilet, dry heaving since there was very little left in her to throw up. She had been in this position for a little more than ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity as she kneeled on the cool tiles, purging everything from her stomach.

When she was sure that she was done—or was able to move without that churning feeling in her stomach—Lauren slowly got to her feet, going over to the sink to splash water on her face and brush her teeth, breathing deeply through her nose, more than glad that the nausea was passing. Her hands were shaking just slightly, a light sheen of sweat on her face and sticking the shirt she wore to her back, but it was more because of her nerves than anything else.

That, she was sure of.

When she and Mishca had returned from Sardinia weeks ago, things had gone from good to better, especially since things had been quiet around Mishca. Since she was practically helping run one of the clubs, Lauren had chalked her fatigue up to the hectic work schedule, but now…she didn’t think so, especially when that nausea grew worse.

Of course, she had wanted to say it was something she had eaten, but from what she’d read about food poisoning, its symptoms weren’t anything like what she was going through. And it definitely didn’t last for weeks at a time.

Besides, she was hardly eating in the first place.

A sneaking suspicion had hit her when that first wave of nausea hit, but she dismissed it just as quickly, knowing that it wasn’t possible considering she was on birth control.

Then, at the first thought of that little pill she was meant to take daily, she thought of their lost luggage…and the fact that they had been tucked away in the side pouch of her bag. She had meant to refill her order since then, but she had forgotten all about it until a few weeks ago.

Lauren wanted to ignore her symptoms, hoping that it would pass, but after tonight—another night spent on the floor of the bathroom—she had no other choice. She had to know for sure.

Dressing in a pair of sweatpants, along with a light jacket, she grabbed her keys, closing the bedroom door behind her as she exited.

“Heading out?”

She nearly jumped a foot in the air at Alik’s question, surprised by his casual presence in her home. He was stretched out on the couch, Timberland boots placed on the floor neatly beside where he sat. The TV was on, a movie playing that she didn’t recognize. The volume was so low that he couldn’t possibly have been paying it much attention.

Lauren glanced around, her hand tightening on the strap of her bag as she contemplated what to do next. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s Thursday.”

He didn’t have to explain what he meant. Though the monthly meeting between the bosses was usually held during the day, Mishca had a habit of switching things up now, never holding the meeting in the same place, nor during the same hours.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Your boss asked my boss for a favor. I’m just following orders.”

“Right. Okay then…”

“What can I do for you?”

Lauren shook her head. “Nothing, I’m just going to the store—”

He shrugged, already reaching for his boots to pull on. “Let’s go.”

She didn’t think it was in her best interest to argue with him, so instead of arguing, she waited for him to finish lacing up his shoes and followed him onto the elevator.

Despite the fact that the street was nearly deserted, Alik stuck close to her side, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. There was a small bodega at the corner, the beaming sign at the top of the window still on. There was a girl, one older than Lauren, behind the front counter, her attention on the book she was reading.

Lauren scanned the hanging boards above the aisles, spotting the one she needed to browse. She looked over at Alik. “Can I shop by myself?”

“You got five minutes.”

She didn’t have to ask what he would be doing in the meantime. With those parting words, he headed toward the front counter.

Lauren went to aisle seven, scanning the countless rows of tests. Prices varied; some promised results in less than three minutes and others promised to even tell how far along she was.

As she perused them, she couldn’t help but think of all the times she had passed this aisle in various stores, never paying them any mind. Not because she didn’t think she could get pregnant, but because she hadn’t even thought of having kids this young.

Plucking a few—or ten—off the shelves, she carried them to the front counter, wishing she could send Alik off somewhere so she could do this in private. The girl behind the counter was so engrossed by Alik that she didn’t even notice Lauren’s presence as she walked up, at least not until she placed the tests on the counter.

The girl looked back and forth between Alik and her, then down at Lauren’s rings and Alik’s notably absent ones. If Alik’s smirk was anything to go by, he knew exactly what she was thinking but didn’t bother to correct her assumption. It took no time at all for them to be rung up, and once they were done and back at her place, Alik made himself scarce while Lauren locked herself away in the bathroom.

For the next two hours, she took every test she bought, alternately guzzling water and checking each one.

At the first positive, she shook her head, refusing to believe it.

The second, the first tremor of something stirred to life in her chest.

The third? Her hands were shaking.

The fifth, sixth, and through the tenth, she was utterly convinced that this many tests couldn’t be wrong. By the time she was done, Lauren was sniffling, not entirely sure why she was crying, only that she knew this would change everything, and at the moment, she wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

There was a knock on the door, followed by the sound of someone trying to open the door. “Lauren?”

The sound of Mishca’s voice brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes as she squeezed her eyes shut. The sticks were still spread out in front of her on the floor. Just the thought of them, knowing that he was about to see them at any moment, increased her anxiety. What would he say? What would he think?

Would he be happy?

Or would he be upset?

“Lauren?” He was growing impatient, his next knock not as gentle as the first. “Alik got a message to me. Open the door.”

Gathering up the tests, Lauren held them in one hand as she went over to the door, opening it slowly, her heart in her throat. At the first sight of her, the concern on his face deepened, his hands reaching to cup her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears.

“Tell me.”

As she met his gaze, she was struck by a curious thought, speaking it aloud. “I always found your eyes interesting. Do you think if we had a child, they would have your eyes?”

He tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear, trying his best not to look confused. “O chem ty govorish’—What are you talking about?”

Lauren didn’t have to answer because in the next second, his eyes drifted down to what she held. His brows drew together as he gently pulled them from her hand. As soon as he read the first one, every emotion, every nuance of a reaction vanished from his face. He read them one by one—as she had—placing them down on the counter once he was finished.

“I—” He swallowed, his gaze going from the tests to her stomach, his expression still unreadable. “Oh.”

He seemed genuinely at a loss for words, making her heart hammer faster. She couldn’t tell whether he was upset by the news but explained herself anyway. “My birth control was in my bag, the one that got lost when we were in Sardinia. I forgot all about it while we were there…I don’t really know how to explain this and—”

“Lyubov’ moya—My love. Stop.” His words were gentle as he drew her into his arms.

“Mish, I—”

“Lauren, stop. Don’t apologize to me.”

“Then what do I say?” she said pulling free from him. “I’m supposed to start med school in January. You have the Bratva to think about. I don’t know what—”

He kissed her suddenly, carefully cutting off her protests. Beneath him, she calmed, her hands going to his chest, curling her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, feeling heartbeat beneath her fists.

“We’re fine.”

“But, Mish, I’m pregnant.”

It was the first time she said the words, and the first time she fully acknowledged it. While the fear of the unknown was there, there was also a trace of excitement within her, and judging from the slowly blooming smile on Mishca’ face, it was inside of him, too.

“I see this.”

He reached down, his hand sliding beneath her shirt, over the span of her stomach, rubbing at a non-existent bump.

“No matter what happens,” he went on, his chin resting on top of her head, his words a whisper. “I will never let anything happen to you or the baby, even if I have to have Niklaus and his team shadow you.”

Laughing earnestly, she shook her head. “He would never agree to that.”

“We’ll see, but for now, I don’t want you to worry about anything. We will figure it out. We always do.”

“Ya tebya lyublyu—I love you.”

He kissed both of her cheeks then her forehead. “I love you, too.”

She smiled up at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. The future was more uncertain than ever, but at that moment, she refused to think of what could possibly go wrong and chose to focus on the present.

“Until the end?”

His smile was slow, but sure, as he inclined his head. “Until the end.”