Betrayal. You Are Not Needed

— Our marriage is fake, — Кирилл says.

— I understand, — I whisper, barely able to breathe from fear.

I came to the company myself, with a hand outstretched to Vladimirsky. We desperately needed money.

— But since I’m paying for the product, I’ll use it.

— What? — I exhale. — H-how?

— In bed. You’ll sleep with me. Got it? — his heavy look from under his brows pierces me to the bone.

— But… we didn’t agree like that. What if… a child.

— No “what if”! — he raises a finger. — I’m infertile!

And now I’m squeezing the test in my hand, with two red lines, and running outside into the cold in my home slippers.