Chapter 7 Istare at Sergei, my mind a complete blank. My brain threatens to short-circuit. He barely knows me, and his offer makes me realize that I barely know him either, no matter how stuck I've been on him for the last few weeks. What kind of man offers that much cash? When we went to dinner, I figured he was probably well-off, but this is too much. I suddenly remember the men I saw on the street several weeks ago, and how unsettled they made me feel. They looked dangerous. Maybe Sergei is even more dangerous than I realized. "You're out of your fucking mind," I blurt out, my mouth moving faster than my brain. "Do you even know what you're asking right now?" Sergei doesn't so much as blink. "Yes. I'm asking you to take care of my mother, and to move in with me," he says, calm as stone. "She'll need round-the-clock care, and I need someone I can trust." The room suddenly feels smaller, as though the walls are closing in around me. His mother's monitor beeps rhythmically, and it's all too much. I need to get out of here, to go somewhere I can think. I glance toward the hospital bed where his mother sleeps peacefully, oblivious to the insane conversation happening just a few feet away. She looks so small and frail, and I'll do whatever I can to make her life easier while she's in my care. But walking away from my life seems extreme. Sergei's voice cuts through my racing thoughts. "You'll have your own room, of course, and access to anything you need. I'll make sure you're completely comfortable while you care for her." He lists the terms so matter-of-factly, as though he's laying out a business deal. There's a coolness to him. But then his gaze drops, and there's a heat underneath it all as he watches me. "You won't want for anything, Nicole. Not while you're under my roof." My pulse picks up at his words. I want to trust him, to open myself up to the possibility of a debt-free, nearly carefree life. His mother will need months of serious care. Yet if I sign myself up for that, then I need to tell him the truth because I won't be able to keep the secret for long. I press a hand to my stomach, flattening my palm as though the gesture could quiet the chaos inside me. It doesn't. If anything, it makes it worse. I can't begin to guess how he might respond to the news. Family is clearly very important to him, but I don't know what kind of father he'd be. Hell, I don't even know if he already has kids, or even a wife for that matter. This is all just so ridiculous. I can't agree without seriously thinking about it. It's a huge ask. The room is awkwardly silent while I try to collect my thoughts. "Sergei," I begin, voice unsteady. "You're dropping a lot on me right now. You understand that, don't you?" "I do," he says confidently, almost daring me to say no to him. "You're asking me to uproot my entire life," I go on. "You're asking me to leave a career I've worked very hard for, an apartment I love." "You set whatever terms you want, and I'll accept them," he responds casually. "Obviously, I want you to be comfortable and happy." His words should irritate me, but they don't. The promise of an easier life is very attractive right now. Probably a little too attractive, if I'm being honest. It's like the miracle I've been hoping for since the moment I found out I was pregnant. Maybe if it came from someone else, someone who wasn't the father of this baby growing inside of me, I'd be a little less hesitant. But, it's really all too much. The word "no" is primed on my lips, no thought even required. It's reckless and wild-so far outside my character I shouldn't even consider it. Then I look at his mother. She stirs slightly, her face creasing even in sleep, like she's in pain and unable to say anything. I can help her. I can be the one to make sure that she gets better, that she receives the care she needs and deserves. Sergei must see something shift in my expression because he steps closer, his presence impossible to ignore. "I want you there, Nicole." His voice is low, firm. "You should be the one to take care of her. She deserves nothing but the best, and I truly believe you are the best." I have to tell him about the baby before this goes any further. "Can I think about it?" I whisper instead, taking the cowardly route. A muscle ticks in his jaw, and I can tell he doesn't like that answer. He wants a definitive yes or no right now, but I can't give him that. Still, after a long pause, he gives me one sharp nod. "That's fine," he says sharply, but then his voice lowers. "Just don't keep me waiting too long. I'm not known for my patience." I nod numbly, my mind spinning as my heart pounds against my ribs. I'm struck again by how little I know about him, by the danger he radiates. He's so different from how I remember, though I wasn't exactly studying his personality that night. It's startling, yet somehow exhilarating. Every instinct tells me to run, but there's a small voice inside of me saying I should take his offer. I turn and leave, desperate to escape his orbit long enough to think. By the time I finally get home, exhaustion sinks all the way to my bones. I lower myself onto the couch, curling one leg under me and holding a cup of ginger tea against my chest. It's become a lifeline, and I pray it will help ease the terrible nausea. I flick on the TV for a few minutes of mindless vegetating. Work was brutal today, and that was without the added pressure of seeing Sergei again and having to contend with his offer. After his mom was admitted, we got slammed with victims from a car crash, and Mia and I had to split our time between them all. I barely had time to eat, not that I was feeling particularly hungry. The nausea never eased up, and I'd say Sergei's offer somehow made it worse. All I want is to sit on my couch with some trashy television on in the background and forget what a strange day it was. My phone buzzes in my lap, and I groan, not ready for my sliver of peace to shatter. But when I see Mom flash across the screen, I don't hesitate to answer. "Hey, Mama," I answer, trying to infuse some cheer into my voice. "Hi, sweetheart," she says with a sigh, and immediately I know something's wrong. "Do you have a minute?" "Of course. What's going on?" "It's the roof," she finally says after a long pause. "Your dad and I were up there this afternoon, patching the leak by the attic vent again. But there are more cracks now. The water's starting to come through to the ceiling in the hallway." I sit up straighter, anxiety curling tight in my gut. "Is it bad?" I ask, imagining their roof caving in on them. "It's getting worse. We've been trying to manage it, but between the animals finding their way in and the mold smell in the upstairs bedrooms..." she trails off with another sigh. "It's just going to cost a lot of money that we don't have." I close my eyes and rest my forehead against my knuckles. I don't even have to ask how much. A roof replacement is expensive. Probably tens of thousands of dollars. I know they don't have that kind of savings tucked away. "I just don't know how we're going to afford it," she says softly, more to herself than me. My heart breaks a little at the tremble in her voice. My mom is the strongest woman I know, but the last few years have knocked her down. It's been hard to see how much she and my dad have had to struggle when they're so close to retirement. "Don't stress," I say, swallowing hard. "We'll figure it out." "We already took out a loan for the plumbing last year," she says absently. "Anyway, I'm sorry to dump this on you. You've got enough on your plate right now." She has no idea just how much I do have on my plate right now. But I know she called me about this because she didn't know who else to talk to. She's scared. I glance down at my stomach. I'm scared too, and when the time is right, I'll have to tell her everything. Then Sergei's voice drifts back into my head. "You'll have your own room, full run of the house, anything you need." And two million dollars. More money than I could ever know what to do with. An offer that sounds way too good, so there must be something sinister behind it. And yet, I'm not really in a position to turn it down. "I've got it," I say suddenly, cutting off my mom's worried ramble. There's a beat of silence. "What?" "The roof. I'll cover it. Don't worry about the cost." "Nicole-" she starts, her voice distressed. "I'm serious," I cut her off, my mind now completely made up. "I'll get you the money by next week. Get the repairs scheduled." She's silent for a long moment, and then she says very softly, "Are you sure?" "Yeah," I say, even though my hands are trembling. "I've got it covered." We say our goodnights, and I hang up. The moment the line goes dead, I stare down at my phone, heart thudding hard in my chest. Am I really about to do this? I turn the TV off and don't give myself a chance to overthink it. I scroll to Sergei's number and hit call before I can lose my nerve. He answers on the second ring. "Nicole." He sounds utterly at ease. So he did keep my number. "Hey," I breathe. "Is now a bad time?" "No," he replies quickly. "Not at all. Have you thought more about my offer?" "Yes," I answer breathlessly. There's a charged silence on the line. "Yes?" he asks, and I realize my yes can be misinterpreted. "When can I start?" I ask, casting out all doubt. "I can make arrangements whenever you're ready," he says, confidence threading through every syllable. "We can get it all done by the end of the week if you can be ready that quickly." "Okay," I squeak, gripping the edge of the couch cushion, curling my fingers into the fabric. "I'm glad you said yes," he murmurs, igniting a heat inside of me. That same dizzy swirl that sparked the first night we texted surges through me now. I nod, even though he can't see me. As soon as the call ends, I sit there staring at the dark TV screen, my reflection staring back, wide-eyed and unsure. I've just agreed to move into a stranger's home. A very rich, very intense, very enigmatic stranger, who also happens to be the father of my secret child. I keep stacking reckless life choices, one on top of the other. In a romance-themed observation show, several participants undergo a series of interactions and conflicts filled with love, misunderstandings, and power struggles. In the end, one couple rises to over...