Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 133

“Thank you,” I murmur. “Are the kids alright?”

“They’re worried about you, of course. But I assured them that you’d be okay. And I’m gonna keep that promise. Which is why the doctor is on his way now.”

I cringe. “That’s really not necessary.”

“You fainted, Emma.”

“My parents sent me a little gift. Caught me by surprise.”

He nods grimly. “I saw. Don’t worry; we can handle it.”

“You don’t know my parents.”

“They don’t know Ruslan Oryolov.”

I frown. I’m not sure I do, either. “Have you told him about this?”

“No.”

“Good. Can we keep it that way?”

His eyebrows spike downward. “Emma…”

“Please.” I fold my hands together in prayer. “I just fainted. Do you really want to bring about a relapse?”

He chuckles. “The fact that you’re threatening me tells me you’re feeling better.”

“So you can tell the doctor not to come?”

The chuckle falls flat. “No chance.”

I groan and let my head collapse back onto the pillows. “Maybe I will catch a break one of these days. But today is not that day.”

Kirill offers me a small smile. “Listen, Em, I think it might be a good idea to bring in some reinforcements where the kids are concerned.”

I squint up at him. Guess I can add Kirill to the list of people who think I’m a terrible mother. “Like a nanny?”

“Exactly like a nanny. That way, you can rest a little more and you don’t have to worry about them quite so much.”

If only… “If we’re talking nannies, then I’d rather have Amelia here than anyone else. She knows the kids and they love her.”

Kirill purses up his lips. “She’ll have to be vetted.”

“I know, I know. The process takes two months.”

He blinks in confusion and shakes his head. “Um, no, it mostly takes a few weeks. Or less. Usually less.” I can only shake my own head in disgust. Of course it does. Ruslan was just being an asshole. “But I can try and speed it along.”

I reach out to grab his hand in my weak grasp. “Kirill, seriously: don’t tell Ruslan about this.”

“Why not?” He sighs, clearly frustrated. “He deserves to know about this, Emma.”

“I’m not sure about deserves, but we can come back to that. I’d just rather not have him involved.”

“He’s the father of your child.”

“He’s also the bane of my existence. And I don’t want him to know about this!”

Kirill pulls back a little. I wonder if he can see the truth on my face. And the truth is, I don’t want to give Ruslan another reason to think that I can’t take care of these children, including the one in utero.

Kirill still hasn’t agreed to keep my secret when Dr. Owens walks in. The doctor fixes me with that kindly smile of his, which, to my surprise, does make me feel marginally better. He gives me a standard examination, checks my pulse and my vitals, all while Kirill stands off to the side like a watchful guard dog.

“Well, Doc?” Kirill asks when the doctor finishes jotting down his notes.

“Everything seems to be alright, except—” I cringe internally as I await the imminent bad news. “—your blood pressure is far too high.”

I have to repress a snort. Gee, I wonder why that could be.

“We’re gonna have to monitor that carefully,” he continues. “High blood pressure can be very damaging to both mother and child.”

And I thought keeping this baby safe would be easiest while it was inside me. Apparently, I can’t even manage to do that right. Sienna didn’t have high blood pressure during any one of her pregnancies. She’d coasted through all three in high spirits. Leave it to me to screw the simple part up.

Bad guardian.

Bad mother.

Bad person.

“I’d recommend weekly visits to the hospital for precautionary examinations. At least until we can bring your blood pressure down and determine that you and the baby are completely out of danger.”

I look at Kirill hopefully, praying he decides to take pity on me and keep this between us. But his eyes are fixed firmly on the doctor.

I know that look. It never ends well for me.

“Can we determine the cause of the high blood pressure, Doc?”

“Our last exam was two weeks ago. Given that Emma has shown no sign of preeclampsia and no prior history of high blood pressure, it seems to me that this is stress-related.” He turns his gaze on me. “Have you been under any undue stress lately, Emma?”

I double-down on the cringe. “Well…”

The doctor seems to take that as confirmation. He gives me an understanding nod and pats my arm. “Pregnancy is hard enough as it is. Add social and familial pressures and it becomes exponentially harder. Emma, my dear, you need to do whatever it takes to reduce the amount of stress in your life. For your sake and the baby’s alike.”

I swallow hard, keenly aware of my heart throwing a fit inside my chest. Ironically, all this information is really not helping my blood pressure.

“Let me schedule another appointment for you early next week,” Dr. Owens concludes. “Until then, drink lots of water, meditate, and try to rest as much as you can.”

Kirill takes over from there. “Thanks, Doc. Let me show you out.”

He’s about to follow Dr. Owens out the door when I stop him. “Kirill!” He turns reluctantly, no doubt because he knows exactly what I’m trying to ask him. “Please?”

He shakes his head. “Just rest, okay?”

Then he shuts the door and I sink into the bed, wondering how my life went so wrong, so fast.