Page 74 of Bought to Bear Bratva Heir

"Daisy, I mean, miss," she corrected herself quickly. "We really do need the room, so if you can get changed. I think someone left your clothes." She pointed to the overnight bag on the chair by the window.

Had Ilya sent them? The bag was a deep blue. Expensive looking, so yeah, it was definitely Ilya. I just hadn’t noticed it before because, well—I had kind of been in my own bubble of disbelief since I had woken up. First, because someone had set fire to my father's house, and I wasn’t naive enough to believe they didn’t know I was inside. Secondly, because Ilya had risked his life to save mine, and that meant he wasn’t the one to set the fire.

And lastly, because I was pregnant.

Again.

I pressed my hand to my stomach, unseen by the nurse.

I didn’t know why, because it was right there on the chart that she had just looked at, but I didn’t want her to realize I was pregnant. Which was silly; if she had read the chart, she would already know.

"Okay, I’ll be as quick as possible." Slowly, because I didn’t feel the greatest still, I swung my legs over the bed and headed towards the bag, rummaging inside. Ilya must have sent it over because these things were definitely mine.

"Is there paperwork to sign?" I asked, bundling some clothes into my arms. I hadn’t spent a lot of time in hospitals, but usually there was paperwork. Insurance and things to sort out.

I lifted my eyes to her expectantly.

"No, it’s all been taken care of."

Turning slowly, I stared at her. "Is Ilya—" I grimaced. "I mean, is Mr. Popovitch here?"

If someone had sorted out my discharge, it would be him.

That was the only thing that made sense. That Ilya had arranged all of this. For some reason, he wanted me home. Maybe there was another hospital or something he wanted me in.

Without meaning to, I pressed my hand to my flat stomach again. It wouldn’t be flat for long, but I had seen Ilya's face when he had told me we were expecting again, and there had been hope in his eyes.

Almost like this was his second chance.

"He’s not here." Her voice was flat and emotionless.

I did a double-take. What did she mean that he wasn’t here? If I was being discharged, then he would be here. It wasn’t like he would let me out of his sight now he knew I was expecting.

I knew that much about the man who kept filling me with babies.

Unless I was just being silly. Maybe Ilya didn’t see this as a second chance, but another chance for him to use me. Would he send me away or worse, and keep our second child for himself as well?

"Please get ready to leave now. We need the room." Without a backward glance, she walked stiffly from the room, leaving me to stare at her retreating back.

Something was wrong.

Ilya would be here, unless—I paused with only one leg in my jeans. Unless he didn’t actually care. And that was a very real possibility. Maybe he wanted me gone.

Maybe even after everything, including him risking his life by running into a burning building to save me, he wanted nothing to do with me and was still planning on marrying Marguerite? Baby or not.

I didn’t want to think about it. But my hands shook as I quickly dressed and tied my mess of blonde hair into a scrunchie without the use of a comb because no one had brought me one.

One final look at my reflection, and I gathered my wits about me. I didn’t even look like myself anymore. My cheeks were hollow, and my face too pale.

There were dark smudges under my glassy eyes.

When had this happened? When had all the life gone from my face?

I looked like someone who had given up. But I had never been that person. If Ilya wanted me out of his life, I would go, but I wouldn’t leave Alec behind. I would fight for him. Even if it was just visitation. Even if that meant I couldn’t go back to my old life.

Not that I could go back anyway. My passport had been back at my father's house. Along with my phone. They would both be ash by now.

I didn’t want to think about that. Or what I was going to do next as I shouldered the bag and headed out. There were no nurses to stop me, no doctors who shouted and asked where I was going, and no Ilya waiting impatiently.