Satin Princess(7)

“What’s the difference?”

“A king with an heir,” Lev muses with a smug smile. “Who would’ve thought?”

Not me, that’s for damn sure. But seeing the brightness in Jessa’s eyes when it finally sunk in that she was pregnant… it was nothing short of magic. A piece of happiness that I never imagined I would experience for myself.

Which is strange in its own right. Love—if that is truly the name for whatever this is between us—is the one luxury I never expected to have.

“Mr. Anton, sir?” Margarit interrupts cautiously, once again standing in the threshold. “Mr. Caplan saw her a few hours ago.”

I rack my memory for the matching information. Caplan—broad-shouldered, gray-bearded, stern. He works security at the front gate. Mother with terminal cancer. I got her enrolled in an experimental drug trial. Last I heard, she’s in remission.

The man in question steps into view, his face darkened slightly from what looks like an uneven sunburn. “Don Stepanov, Ms. Jessa left the compound two hours and thirty-six minutes ago via the western gate.”

I stare at him in disbelief as Lev rises to his feet.

“What do you mean, she left?” he asks for me, since I’m having trouble finding my words for the first time in my life.

Caplan is starting to look nervous now, if a man that dour can ever seem nervous. He shifts from one foot to the other, wringing his hands together the entire time. Margarit, sensing that a storm might be brewing, steps to the side and all but disappears behind the door. Though she knows better than to leave without being dismissed.

“Don, sir, I apologize if I erred. You told me she had the freedom to come and go. She… she said she was leaving so… so I—”

“It’s okay, Caplan,” I say before the man suffers a nervous breakdown. “You did nothing wrong.”

He looks visibly relieved. “I told her I could call her a cab, but she insisted on walking down to the end of the hill.”

“Which means she was probably being picked up?” Lev infers, turning to me.

I nod and wave a hand at the security guard. “You’re excused. Both of you.”

Both Caplan and Margarit disappear instantly, visibly happy to be done with this impromptu little interrogation.

I rub my throbbing temples. “What the fuck happened?”

Yulian strolls in, oblivious and nonchalant. “Whatcha talking about?”

“Jessa left,” Lev fills in.

“Oh. Weird. When’s she coming back?” Yulian asks.

He still doesn’t get it. To be fair, I’m not sure I fully understand it yet. One thing is obvious: Jessa left of her own volition. After I told her how I felt, what I wanted.

What changed between that conversation and now?

“I don’t think she is coming back,” I snarl as my instincts start buzzing.

“Why would she leave?” Lev asks. “She was happy to stay. You said she agreed to move in here with you.” His mind is already racing with theories, probabilities, truths and lies and courses of action. It’s the only way he knows how to be.

I used to be the same—until she burst into my life.

“Move in here?” Yulian gawks at me, dumbfounded. “Jesus, I thought you were just having fun with the broad.”

Lev rolls his eyes. “If you had any powers of perception, you would have realized that Jessa was never just a distraction for him.”

“Maybe she was more freaked out about the pregnancy than she let on,” I ponder.

But even as I say it, I know it’s not true.

I saw her face when she heard the news. She was happy. Thrilled, in fact. Once the initial shock had worn off, there was only joy and excitement left.

According to Caplan, she left two and a half hours ago. Which is right after I left her in my room. Something crucial happened in those few minutes.

I need to figure out what it was.

“What pregnancy?”

Lev and I both turn to look at Yulian. I realize that in all the madness of removing Rodion’s body, addressing his men, and establishing a new alliance with Yaromir, I had neglected to tell my brother the biggest news of all.

“Jessa’s pregnant,” I say bluntly. “The baby is mine.”

“Ha!” He slaps his knee. “What’s the punchli—oh. Shit. You’re serious? You’re serious. Fuck me, you’re serious.”

“She’s my woman, plain and simple,” I say, unwilling to spend a lot of time dissecting this.

“You’ve never said that about any woman. Including the one you married.”

“Because she wasn’t mine,” I say harshly. “She was forced on me. I never wanted her.”

“But Jessa is different?”

“Night and fucking day.”

Yulian still looks completely blindsided. It’s almost like he’s the one who just found out he’s going to be a father. “Pregnant… wow.”

I don’t have time for this shit, though. He needs to catch up or fuck off. “Did anyone speak to Jessa after I left her?” I ask.

Lev and Yulian both shake their heads.

“She was alone when I left her,” I remind them.

“With her phone,” Lev says after a moment.