She chews at the inside of her cheek. “So we’re leaving today, huh? Back to the mansion?”
I nod. “It’s the best place to protect you all. I’ve had my men run dozens of sweeps of the place. Any weakness in the estate’s perimeter has been fortified. There’s no way in or out unless I say so.”
“Does that mean you figured out where Sobakin is?”
I don’t want to get into this conversation with her, but she’s got that look on her face. Her eyebrows are arched, her lips are pursed, and her cheeks have lost their color. That expression usually means that she’s not going to back down easily.
“Alyssa—”
“Don’t you dare tell me that none of this is my concern. It is my concern. This is my family, too.”
With a sigh, I reach out to stroke the curve of her neck. Her skin is warm and soft beneath my fingertips. “I don’t know where Sobakin is, but I have an idea what he might be planning. And that means we need to prepare ourselves for a fight.”
Her jaw squares as she nods. “I’ll go get packing.”
She walks with her shoulders pushed back and chin high, as though she’s prepared to enter the fight herself. It chills me to my core. But it also leaves me feeling fulfilled, amazed. Grateful.
Somehow, over the last few months, the thief on the fence has proved that she’s made of more than I ever would’ve guessed.
She’s made of steel, too.
Lev is the happiest to return back to the estate. He’s ensconced himself in the basement from the second we cross the threshold, and I’m not mad about it. The lower levels are basically a bunker and if he’s holed up down there, he’s safe.
Alyssa is sleeping with Polly tonight. The change of environment has thrown my sister for a loop that none of us were expecting. But like always, Alyssa knew exactly how to calm her down—movie marathon, junk food, and a two-person sleepover that left my bed empty.
Tonight, I don’t mind.
I slip downstairs to the porch next to the pool where Dimiv and Nikolai are sitting, smoking cigars and drinking scotch.
“I’m beginning to think you two sleep out here,” I remark as I take a seat next to them.
“There are worse places to be, cousin,” Dimiv says with a cackle. “The night is warm, the vodka is strong, and our enemies are foolish enough to think they can get the best of us. It is a good day to have Bugrov blood in your veins.”
Dimiv hands me a cigar and I light it as I recline. Nikolai pours me a glass of scotch and slides the glass over to me. “Give us the word, Uri,” is all he says.
I let out a plume of smoke. “We need to strike first.” Dimiv and Nikolai exchange a look that I ignore. “The waiting game has run its course. I don’t want to give him the benefit of making the first move.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Dimiv says. “We can’t underestimate the power of surprise.”
“You know what might help with that?” Nikolai suggests. “Manpower.”
“We have men,” I point out.
Nikolai nods. “But do we have enough men? What if we were to attack with a stronger force?”
“Are you talking about mercenaries?”
He shakes his head. “I’m talking allies. Why not take a page from Sobakin’s book and join forces against a common enemy?”
Dimiv frowns. “Who’re you talking about?”
“Dominik Evanoff,” I answer immediately before Nikolai has to.
“Exactly,” Nikolai croons, leaning in. “Why not? We’ve already learned that Evanoff has bad blood with Sobakin. The only reason Evanoff hasn’t moved against Sobakin yet is because he didn’t think he could win. With us, he stands a chance.”
I consider it for a few moments. “It’s not a bad plan.”
Nikolai smirks. “That’s Uri speak for ‘I wish I’d thought of it.’”
42
ALYSSA
“Your vitals are good,” Dr. Grigory concludes with a satisfied nod.
I breathe a sigh of relief. But Uri doesn’t look like he’s ready to celebrate just yet. “And the babies? How are they doing?”
“I’m checking on them now.” He turns the sonogram machine on, squirts some ultrasound gel onto my stomach, and spreads it around with his paddle. “Hmm.”
“‘Hmm’?” I repeat, switching into my default setting, which, these days, is always panic. “What does ‘hmm’ mean? ‘Hmm’ doesn’t sound good. I don’t like ‘Hmm.’”
Dr. Grigory turns to me with placid eyes. “I’m still concerned with one baby's growth. It’s a little slow. Certainly behind for a fetus at twenty-seven weeks.”
I glance at Uri helplessly. “So, um, what should we be doing to improve the baby’s growth? Is there an injection I can take? Pills I can use? Specific foods I should be eating?”
I’m aware that I’m talking a mile a minute but that’s only because I’m thinking a mile a minute. If I stop, I might just break down.
Thankfully, Uri’s hand lands on my shoulder and the weight of him, the pressure of his fingers, forces me to take a deep breath and concentrate on what the doctor is trying to explain to both of us.
“For now, I suggest that you admit yourself into this ward so that I can keep a close eye on you and the babies, monitor their progress in the next few weeks.”
My jaw drops. “Admit myself?”
“That’s not happening,” Uri says firmly. “I’m taking her back home after this appointment.”
Dr. Grigory looks uncomfortable as he gets to his feet. “Sir, Mr. Bugrov… With the way this pregnancy is going, it looks like the last trimester is going to be the hardest for Alyssa. She’s going to be lucky if she gets to carry these babies to term.”
Fear pumps through my heart. I jump in before Uri can say another word. “What do you mean by that? There’s a question of me not carrying these babies to term?”
His eyebrows lower and his face wrinkles with frown lines. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but it’s important that you know exactly what’s happening.”
I grip Uri’s hand tightly. He’s staring daggers at the doctor as though Grigory is personally responsible for my high-risk pregnancy. But I can’t worry about his reaction right now. Not when I’m trying desperately to contain my own. “I want to know exactly what’s happening.”
Dr. Grigory gives me a sympathetic smile. “At the rate your pregnancy is progressing, I’ll be happy if you make it to thirty weeks.”
My eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of my head. “I’m sorry… Did you say thirty weeks? That’s only three weeks away!”
“Correct.”
“Doctor, t-that can’t be right. I’ll only be seven months or so… my babies will be born more than two months premature.”
“Yes, but we have the facilities here to make sure that those babies survive a premature delivery. If, however, you were to go to your home, I’m not sure we’d get the babies back to the hospital fast enough to save them.”
I look up at Uri in mute horror. He squeezes my hand but his eyes are trained on Dr. Grigory. “How serious is this?”
“More serious than I would’ve liked,” the doctor admits with a sigh. “She’s going to need complete bed rest from now on and constant monitoring. The best place for her is right here.”