The smell of cooking spaghetti and a grumbling belly woke her up. She groaned. She felt the most pregnant whenever she woke up.

"Tiff?"

"No, I'm a kind thief who broke in just to cook you dinner," Tiffany replied.

Raelynn chuckled and sat on the dinning table. Her hooded eyes studied her fingernails. The nail polish was chipped, and the table under them was chipped, too.

Tiffany was in need of new furniture. She was rich in kindness, but that didn't pay the bills, which her clerical job barely did. Raelynn wished she could provide that for her. She was already in so much debt, and hated being in debt to Tiffany, too.

One day, she would pay it all back.

Her job at the supermarket paid minimum age, and the sham she had at Kuznetsov Hotels paid two dollars more. Viktor was in no rush to spoil her.

Hotels. That's what they hid their money laundering behind. A harmless-looking business that was as full of rentable suites as it was in secrets.

Tiffany set down a plate, waving Raelynn off when she thanked her. They talked about their usual topics. Tiffany ranted about a cute guy at work. Once upon a time, Raelynn had been as bubbly. Back when she went home to Maksim's lap and chatted until he forgot they had no television.

She wasn't sure when her light went out. Maybe it was when her morning sickness and therapy started to eat away at her. Maybe it was when she fought her trembling hand to write that goodbye letter, every black-inked word darkening her light some more.

You don't know what you have until it's gone.

She lost Maksim and herself. She mourned both.

Before going to bed, she prepared her next costume for work. It was similar to the one she wore for her first day of work, but it was paired with uglier, more comfortable shoes.

She fed her bump ice cream, tried to say goodnight to it in Russian without butchering the word, failed, and then went to bed with a giggle on her lips.

If you're reading this story other than on Wattpad and Inkitt, then it has been plagiarised. Please email 1ancientt at gmail dot com to let me know.

– • –

"Ladies and gentlemen, due to an accident at..."

"Come on," she groaned, staring at the 'DELAYED' word on the train station monitor. It was green instead of red, teasing her. She was starting to understand why New Yorkers were infamously bitter. She was twenty delayed trains away from becoming one herself.

She arrived five minutes late to her desk, which got her a few glances. She clutched her scarf and purse stiffly in front of her, and got to work. She powered on the computer, inputted her given passwords, and read over emails.

She had an assignment to browse through an archive of past marketing pieces and sort them by themes. She dove right into it, desperate to prove herself.

"Raelynn?"

She turned her head, but kept her belly protected under the desk.

"Hey, I'm Markson. I sit a few desks over. I was wondering if you could email me that Christmas demo we drafted from last year?"

"Sure!" she smiled, probably a bit too wide.

Her co-worker returned the smile and left. She felt something tickling low in her belly. At first she thought it was one of the boys, but then she realized it was simply happiness. This job– although temporary, meant something, because it was a dream.

If only dad could see me now.

Yeah. Pregnant, detested by your baby daddy, broke, a burden to Tiffany, and sick in the head. He would be real proud, that darker part of her whispered.

Her shoulders sagged, and she returned to work. She realized it was lunchtime many hours later when people started to trickle out.

"Raeylnn." Amoura stood there in all her scowling glory. She was basically the mascot of New York.

"Go downstairs to room 701, and grab the 3D printed building models. I'll meet you at the lunchroom, but it can get crowed in there so..." Her eyes flickered behind her. "Oh, look, a friend. If you two stay together, I'll find you easily enough."

Amoura left, and Raelynn didn't understand what she was talking about until she turned and saw an overweight woman there. Amoura had made another snipe at her weight.

"What a bitch," Raelynn whispered, standing up to meet the woman. She was attractive in her own way, with her beautiful ginger hair, green eyes, clear skin, and generous curves.

"I hope you're talking about Amoura," she laughed. "Hi. I'm Shanna."

"Nice to meet you. I just started today. Do you want to head to lunch?"

Shanna nodded, and Raelynn pulled out her jelly sandwich. It had no peanut butter because the boys had declared it an enemy for the past month.

Shanna pointed out a few fun facts of the building as they made it down the elevator. She was nice, and Raelynn appreciated her friendship, but she couldn't help but look around for Maksim.

They made it to the cafeteria, where Shanna introduced her to more employees from other departments. The first day went smoothly, and a week later, Raelynn was greeting people the second she entered the building.

She reminded herself that the job was only temporary, and she was running out of time. Soon enough, she wouldn't be able to hide the feisty boys under scarves. She needed to find Maksim as soon as possible. The problem was that he used a private elevator, and lingered on executive floors that were off-limits even for employees.

She blew a breath as she walked over to the cafeteria.

"Look sharp. Boss incoming," a passing friend from accounting warned her.

She raised her head just as Maksim turned the corner. His face, hard like the surface of a volcano, cracked with fury. He was like Yellowstone. Mighty and powerful when inactive, hell on Earth when erupted.

He had a woman behind her, who was rambling about an agenda, although he stopped paying attention. The boss rushed past Raelynn, hands fisted and somehow holding her breath. Without being told, Raelynn knew he wanted her to follow him. Their minds just worked like that.

She followed him through corridors, until the secretary frowned when she noticed she was following, until Maksim raised his hand to dismiss her.

He led her into the elevator which rose as her blood pressure dropped. They were alone on his floor now. He led her into his office, slammed the glass door so hard it shattered, and cooked her alive with his stare.

"I had you blacklisted," he snarled. "Whose cock did you suck to get clearance back into my building?"

"I'm an employee here. I needed to talk to you. You didn't let me–"

"How?" he barked.

"Your brother, Viktor, he helped me."

His hands jumped for his neck and tore his tie off as if it were a leash he couldn't stand. He looked more like himself without it.

"You insufferable bitch. Why do you keep crawling back!"

"Because we need to talk. The letter was a lie, and I need to explain why!"

"Look at you," he sneered. "You gained weight. Is the thought of not having my money eating at you? Do you feel so hollow witout my millions that you need to fill yourself with crap food and my brother's dick?"

He reached for her, and she stumbled away from his reach. He won, though. When it came to battles of the flesh, Maksim always won.

She found herself in a corner with him seething over her, and one of his hands digging into the small of her back. She had been in the same spot months ago. Trapped between the same wall and chest, with the same pale fear in her eyes, and him with the same colorful anger in his.

Could he hear it? Hear her heart racing, or the heartbeat of his sons inside her?

Could he feel it? The tightness of her skin as it stressed to contain his twins?

Could he sense the pull of his flesh and blood inside her?

She pushed at his chest, desperate to get him away before he discovered the secret between them.

Maksim chuckled. "What? You could sue me for sexual harassment this way. Isn't that enough for you?"

"Get off me!" she panicked.

"Oh? You want it all then?"

"Just fucking listen, okay? Please."

"Alright." He turned away, and she felt like she could breathe again when she realized that he was still in the dark about the secret tucked safely into an equally dark spot in her.

She rushed to straighten her cardigan and infinity scarf over her front.

Maksim leaned against his desk. He picked up his desk phone, pressed a button, and muttered something to it.

"Go on, talk."

"Okay." She swallowed. "I didn't mean that letter. We never talked about our parents. I had a reason for it, and it had to do with my dad. When I was..."

Glass cracked under footsteps. Raelynn looked to the left and found his secretary.

"Finish," Maksim pressed, still staring at her.

Raelynn only watched with confusion as the secretary dropped to her knees and pulled down his zipper.

The dots connected, and vomit surged up her throat. She clapped a hand over her mouth and ran for the nearest bathroom. She made it one floor down before she threw open a door and heaved into the nearest toilet.

Her vomit was pink from jelly sandwich she had for lunch.

"I'm sorry," she whispered through her vomit-caked lips. She slid her sweaty fingers under her scarf and dress skirt. She needed skin-to-skin contact with her belly.

She felt tired of making it a secret. It was her sun, but she treated it like the moon by hiding it as if it were shameful. Although she wasn't a mother yet, she was already failing.

"I'll give us some ice cream tonight. And– and an extra jelly sandwich because you still don't like the peaunut butter. And–" she shook with sobs and had to grip the filthy toilet seat with her free hand.

The toilet was firm, strong. It wasn't a man that could wrap his arms around her and offer support, but it helped her ground herself.

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