She checks my chart, gives me the once over with her bold glance, and manages a thin smile. “You don’t look so bad, all things considered, Mrs. Radaeva.”
I flick a glance towards Niko, wondering what he’s told them since we’ve not even spoken of it ourselves, but he just nods and walks away, adding to the layer of resolve that coats my decision.
I return Svetlana’s smile with a genuine one of my own. “I don’t feel any worse for wear,” I tell her as Dr. Zelensky enters and asks a series of questions about the baby’s movements and my own bumps and scrapes.
He checks the cut in my hairline, and declares it too late to bother stitching, but warns me to be aware of the signs of concussion and tells me to take it easy for a few days.
Then I ask about the only thing that really concerns me. “What about the chloroform I inhaled? Will that affect the baby at all?”
He looks startled, like he never knew that was a concern. I guess he didn’t since he’s prone to ask Niko about my health, rather than speaking to me directly, and Niko doesn’t know.
Dr. Zelensky's brow furrows as he processes this new information but remains strictly professional. "When did this occur?"
I explain briefly, careful not to give too many details, and his eyes widen slightly but he doesn’t give anything away. "Given the short-term exposure and the stage of your pregnancy, the risk to the fetus is minimal. In fact, once upon a time, the drug was used to aid childbirth," he reassures me. "However, we'll monitor things to be on the safe side, and I'd like to do an ultrasound today to check on the baby's development."
Svetlana wheels in the ultrasound machine, and thirty minutes later, I feel the release of a tension I didn’t even know I was feeling, as I’m assured everything is right with my world.
Well, this most important part of it anyway.
Chapter 23
NIKO
“What are you doing here?” Darian asks, even though I was always supposed to be attending the two meetings we have scheduled.
I raise an eyebrow at him. "My job. Why wouldn't I be here?"
Darian purses his lips, his brow furrowing. "I assumed you'd be with Lyah. After everything that happened..."
"Lyah's fine," I cut him off sharply. "She’s seeing Dr. Zelensky as we speak. Let's focus on business."
The others file into the room, taking their seats around the long mahogany table, but I can feel Darian's eyes on me as I begin the meeting, discussing our latest shipments and territory disputes with our brigadiers. I keep my voice steady, my face impassive. Just another day.
Still, an hour later, Darian’s on me as soon as everyone leaves. “So, what did Lyah say happened? Did you pick up any clues from her account? Was she able to tell you anything useful?”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “I haven’t spoken to her yet,” I admit, not looking him in the eye.
When he stays silent, I feel the urge to explain. “She was exhausted last night. It was late. And this morning she’s seeing the doctor.”
Sounds reasonable enough. Compassionate even.
Darian's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing through my carefully constructed facade. "You're being awfully cold about this, Niko. This is your wife we're talking about. She’s been through an ordeal, that much is obvious, for Christ's sake."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, because being cold is the last thing I feel. If anything, I'm burning up inside, a volatile mix of rage, worry, and something else I can't quite name, but which threatens to consume me if I make one wrong step.
But I can't let it show. I can't let it affect my judgment.
I open my mouth to respond, but my phone buzzes in my pocket. Grateful for the distraction, I pull it out, frowning at the number on the screen.
"Nikolai Radaeva speaking," I answer curtly.
"Mr. Radaeva, this is Dr. Zelensky." The doctor's voice is tense, setting me on edge immediately. "You asked me to contact you about your wife’s medical.”
“Yes, how is she?” I ask, ignoring Darian’s shameless eavesdropping.
“Mrs. Radaeva is in remarkably good health, both physically and mentally, all things considered,” he says, his tone causing alarm bells to ring. “But I could have done with some advance warning that she’d been drugged with chloroform. I would have been more prepared.”
My blood runs cold. "Chloroform?" I repeat, my voice hoarse as Darian’s eyes pin me with a look of absolute disgust.
