Knocked Up by the Russian (Nikolai Bratva Brides #3)

Chapter 21 - Amy

She pretended to be asleep when Ivan finally finished in the bathroom, but her heart ached at the reminder she'd thrown in both their faces. Only five months left ... Tears dripped from her eyes, just like they had before she'd fallen asleep. But this time the agony inside her didn't quiet when she felt him return to their bedroom. Felt him climb onto the bed and shift his pillow around the way he always did.

Amy knew what it felt like to live in uncertainty, but the next three weeks that followed tested her in ways she hadn't been tested before. Her heart ached, and feelings she just didn't want left her miserable. To make matters worse—or was it better? She couldn't quite decide—Ivan was hardly there. He came home while she slept, waking her with his clumsy fumbling in the bathroom and then leaving before she woke in the morning. Time passed, and they barely spoke.

Things were happening too fast; the stress of everything left her aching for Ivan's arms at night. But he'd taken to falling asleep on top of the covers, barely touching her. Maybe it was her words in the bathroom or the argument they'd had earlier that day. She didn't know, but the gap between them felt wider than ever before, and her mind and heart couldn't agree on whether this relationship was a risk she should take. Wouldn't it be easier to break things off sooner rather than later? This was a question that played in her mind every day... until the Thursday morning of the third week.

She woke with her stomach clenching and acid filling her mouth. Urgency drove her to the bathroom just seconds before she vomited, the act stealing her breath and leaving her dizzy and out of it. It felt like she'd lost a fight with one of the Bratva soldiers walking around outside.

"What's up with you?" Zia mentioned the minute she managed to get back downstairs. Amy stopped searching for ginger ale and shrugged. Uncertain. Always so freaking uncertain; it was driving her mad.

"I think the stress is getting to me," she mumbled, pressing her forehead against the cool fridge door. It didn't help; just her luck.

"The stress," Zia echoed, a funny tone in her voice that had Amy glaring at her in suspicion.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, but Ava entered the kitchen with Mira and the babies, stealing Zia's attention.

Zia had a strange look on her face as they watched them. The moment someone mentioned breakfast, Amy shuddered, her stomach threatening a painful repeat of that morning.

"Mira?" her best friend sang, snagging the older woman's wrist as she walked by. The rest of the family entered, giving them strange glances that they ignored as Zia asked Paisley if she'd mind looking after the babies. Her mother agreed, a soft smile on her lips, and Zia let out a strange giggle as she tugged them away.

"Zia," Amy griped, her head swimming as she followed her up the stairs.

"What's going on?" Mira asked, confusion evident as she followed the petite, curly-haired woman.

"Remember that thing we were talking about?" Zia hissed, and Amy's eyebrows rose as she looked at them both. Guilty expressions were shared when she questioned them.

"What thing were you talking about?" she muttered, pulling her arm out of Zia's grip.

"Uh," Zia blustered, her face heating. "Well, you know I love you, hon. It's just that you've been acting pretty weird lately. Like really, really weird. And Mira and I were talking... comparing? I guess? Well, yeah, comparing because I might've mentioned that you might be..." Her voice trailed off, and Amy squinted as she tried to hear the word Zia had just said.

"Might be what?" she asked quizzically, leaning closer. "What were you comparing? Is the stress bothering you too?"

"Whoa, back it up there," Zia leaned away, nose wrinkling, and Amy pulled back, worried she'd forgotten to brush her teeth.

Mira caught her checking and rolled her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with your breath. Zia's just too scared to admit she thinks you're pregnant."

"What?" Amy shouted, her voice unnaturally high. "Zia!"

"See! That," her best friend hissed, snapping her fingers. "You're as ornery as a pit viper."

"You don't even know what that is!" Amy hissed, letting go of their hands and stomping back downstairs.

"Why the hell would you even think that?" she muttered under her breath, brows furrowed. She was on birth control, for Pete's sake!

The discussion didn't end there, though. Zia and Mira were tough to get rid of—so tough, in fact, that three days later they had her peeing on a stick in the bathroom.

"What does it say?" they questioned eagerly behind the door. They were worse than her brothers when she took them to the arcade.

"It says gimme a minute, I'm still busy!" Amy snapped, cheeks heating at how uncomfortable it was to do this in Mira's bathroom.

A few minutes later, she forgot all about that as she looked at the stick in question. "Oh, fuck!" Amy hissed, her back against the door. Literally and figuratively.

"What? Is it positive?" Zia asked, knocking quietly.

"Go away, damn it!" Amy snapped, while a moan of despair built in her throat. She could've cried right then and there. Tears pressed against her eyelids, and she blinked at the mirror across from her, seeing frazzled blonde hair and bloodshot eyes.

"I have to try another one. It's probably wrong," she mumbled to herself, already opening the next one. Four tests later, she was stuck in a silent staring contest with the pregnancy tests lined up on the bathroom counter.

"Oh, shit," Mira and Zia said in unison.

"Let me in," Zia muttered as Amy sniffed, the two women pushing the door open until they could squeeze through. "Oh, honey!"

Their hugs only made the sobs come harder, and Amy spent a good ten minutes crying in their arms before a knock sounded on the door.

"Mira?" Mikhail's voice was worried, and Amy squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered they'd borrowed Mira's bathroom to avoid anyone else figuring out what they were up to. Russian spewed out, the knocks sounding more urgent. "Are you crying?"

"Oh, hell. I have to speak to him; otherwise, he's going to break the damn door," Mira muttered before hollering. "Stop knocking, you big dummy!"

Amy laughed, her small frame shuddering as the tears poured down her face. "What am I going to do, Z?" she whispered as they scooted their butts enough to let Mira through.

"That's up to you, hon," she answered, hugging Amy close. "Do you think this is something you'd both want?"

"I don't know. It's sure as hell not something we planned. I must've mixed up the dates on my birth control," Amy answered as she rested the back of her head on the wooden door. "There are so many unanswered questions between us that I really don't know right now."

"Do you love him?" Zia pressed, meeting Amy's eyes with a concerned expression. "Because I know it's unconventional, but if you love him and you actually want this to work, then you just need to talk to him. An idiot could see that he loves you, Amy."

"I know. He told me," Amy mumbled, remembering that night in her living room not so long ago. Zia's eyebrows rose, and Amy let out a sigh before explaining. "I don't think he meant for me to find out, but I figured with everything I found in his apartment... I assumed," she corrected before mumbling, "That maybe there was something there."

"And you?" Zia asked again, wrapping her arm around Amy. "Do you love him?"

"Yeah," Amy admitted softly. "I love him."

"Then the rest is history," Zia snorted. "You need to talk to him, hon. You can't know what he's going to think until then."

"I doubt he wants kids, though, Z."

Letting out a sigh, they sat for a moment until a loud, "What!" interrupted the silence.

"Oh god," Amy muttered, a blush heating her cheeks. She could hear Mira scolding her husband, and she already knew what he was so shocked about. Rising to her feet, she brushed herself off and left the bathroom, Zia chuckling behind her.

The Pakhan's eyes were wide as he stared from his wife to the two women leaving the bathroom. And for the first time, Amy couldn't feel frightened. The scene was too comical to be worried about the Bratva's leader. Besides, she had to get their word that they wouldn't say anything else. Ivan deserved to know before anyone else.

With her hands on her hips, she expelled a frustrated breath.

***

After she managed to secure a promise from Mikhail and the women, Amy started planning how she was going to tell Ivan about the baby. It wasn't the best timing, that was for damn sure, but she couldn't deny the little flicker of hope in her chest every time her fingers brushed her belly.

The prospect of motherhood left images of their future dancing in her mind—a child with Ivan's eyes and her smile. Maybe a girl with his sunny disposition, or a boy with her resilience. The idea left her giddy. But the joy was quickly overshadowed as she considered the chaos of their lives currently. Frustration surged through her. Why does everything have to be so complicated?

She attempted to wait up that night, heart racing with anticipation, but Ivan didn't come home. Hours passed, and each minute felt like an eternity. As exhaustion settled in, Amy finally succumbed to sleep in the early hours of the morning, disappointment gnawing at her.

When she confronted Mikhail the next day, he let her know their work the night before had lasted longer than it should've and that Ivan would be back later that day. Annoyed, Amy returned to her room, reconsidering whether she should tell him when he got back or if she should wait.

The day dragged on, and that evening she ended up falling asleep before she could see Ivan return, fatigue overwhelming her. In her dreams, she thought she imagined his touch, the warmth of his body pulling her closer. But when she woke, he was sleeping soundly beside her, exhaustion lining his face. Her heart pitter-pattered in her chest.

He looks so tired , she couldn't help but think. Her fingers reached to smooth the creases in his brow, her body melting when he relaxed under her touch.

Tomorrow , she decided determinedly, before curling up against his chest. Whatever argument they'd had, whatever doubts, all faded as she fell asleep next to him.

But the next day came, and Ivan was gone before she could speak to him. The frustration bubbled up inside her, turning into annoyance. Every time she found a moment to share her news, something stopped her. When she chased answers from Mikhail about Ivan's whereabouts, he offered platitudes that only stoked the fire of her irritation. It felt like a cruel game of cat and mouse.

Days turned into a week, and she felt trapped in a cycle of waiting and hoping, her heart aching with the weight of her news. Angry at the situation and feeling increasingly isolated, she approached Mikhail for a favor, a desperate plan forming in her head.

She wasn't willing to let this opportunity slip away from her again. It was time to take control. She needed to make him understand the importance of this moment, no matter how inconvenient it might be.

***

This has to work , Amy thought desperately as she looked at herself in the mirror. Red stained her cheeks as she considered the lacey green lingerie she'd found at the bottom of the suitcase Ivan had packed three weeks ago.

Her fingers touched the pretty silk and lace, cheeks heating further when she remembered him taking her shopping. She'd bought this for him but hadn't had the guts to wear it until now.

Nerves dancing in her stomach, she left the bathroom and returned to the bed to wait out the next few hours. Her discussion with Mikhail played in her mind. Ivan would come home, he'd promised that she'd see her husband tonight.

Her hand touched her belly, and Amy exhaled shakily. God, please let this work .

The time passed slowly, and Amy squirmed as she waited. The lights had been dimmed on purpose, but it reminded her of their bedroom, and Amy found her smile drooping. God, I miss the apartment . Mira's house was gorgeous, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't the home she'd come to think of as theirs. The sky outside her borrowed bedroom's window overlooked the pool and the garden. And a small part of Amy was envious that she would always remember finding out about the baby here. It would've made it so much more special if she could've figured it out in their apartment. Closing her eyes, it was so easy to imagine.

Tears tracked her cheeks, and she let out a huff, laughing at herself as she stumbled to the bathroom to clean them away. And whether it was pregnancy hormones or just missing Ivan, the tears didn't stop for a good couple of minutes. They trekked down her cheeks silently.

Eventually, she took a deep breath and wiped her face, sniffing quietly as she returned to the bedroom—only to pause in the doorway, a stunned expression on her face.

"Ivan," she breathed, joy flickering through her chest even if he looked half asleep, her pillow cuddled to his chest.

Sidling up to him, she tapped his shoulder. "Ivan," she murmured, amusement in her tone when he grumbled under his breath.

Poor little playboy. She snickered as she tapped him again, ocean-blue eyes squinting up at her.

"Where were you?" he accused in a lazy drawl that made her stomach swoop. "You were supposed to be waiting for me."

"Was I?" she teased, leaning forward to kiss him. He hummed in her mouth, tongue dancing lazily with hers.

Amy let out a squeal when his arm appeared out of nowhere, scooping her up and into the bed with him. "Fuck, I've missed your mouth," he mumbled against her neck, fingers settling possessively around her waist.

"You missed me?" Happiness mixed with amusement as she squeezed out of his hold, spotting the frown on his face as he tried to fall asleep again. She'd missed him too. So much.

He mumbled something indecipherable and she snickered, pressing kisses to his mouth again. "Ivan," she breathed, fingers running through his hair as she worked him onto his back, settling herself on his waist.

"I need you," she murmured, pressing kisses to his neck. A warm hand settled on her hips and he let out a groan, his other hand running through his hair.

Bloodshot blue eyes met hers blearily, and Amy fought a laugh as she kissed him. "Wake up, I need to tell you something."

"Is it how much you love me?" he muttered, exhaustion lacing his tone as he gave in and kissed her back.

"Not quite," she mumbled against his lips, nipples brushing his chest. Heat curled in her veins, aided by the soft rocking against his hips.

"Ivan," she whimpered, squirming in his grip.

His other hand settled on her hips, stalling her movements. "Fucking torture... Mishka. You're torturing me. It's not fair, let me sleep."

"Nope," she beamed brightly, nipping his lips.

He muttered a curse, sleepily kissing her back before he pulled away. "Please, for the love of god, let me sleep, woman."