Knocked Up By the Russian Boss by Bella King

Chapter 43

IVORY

Nobody has said anything genuine since we’ve sat down. Occasionally, my father’s wife will chime in and attempt to start a meaningless conversation about nothing since she has no hobbies or friends to talk about.

I suppose that if I were with a different man, like a guy from school, I’d be listening to everybody drone on about the stock market or cryptocurrency. Perhaps silence is better for now.

Our food finally arrives, and I devour my meal, anxious to see how the rest of the dinner will play out once everyone is done eating.

I’m unbothered by the appearance of being greedy; I’m pregnant, and these men are stressing me out with their stare-down. The atmosphere grows heavier by the minute, and I gaze intently at Maxim to try and pick up on cues as to why. Just a moment ago, he seemed totally unconvinced that there was an issue at all.

Maxim hasn’t touched his food at all, not even his water or wine. I thought for sure he would at least drink the wine to soothe any nerves, but he’s been nearly unmoving since we sat down. My father, at least, has been eating his meal between staring daggers at Maxim and waiting for his wife to stop talking.

“Is everyone alright?” I ask, trying to employ a casual and humored effect to avoid any real confrontation.

“I’ll be right back,” Maxim says under his breath, and he starts to get up from his seat.

“Oh, don’t step out until you’ve tried the wine. It doesn’t taste as fresh when it’s been sitting out like that,” my father says firmly, ignoring my question entirely.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely try it when I get back,” Maxim replies, offering a curt smile in my father’s direction and nothing more.

“Really, I insist that you try it now,” my father says, being strangely persistent over something that would typically not be a cause for immediate address.

“I already said I’d try it when I got back, thank you,” Maxim replies, now with a familiar growl in his tone.

My stomach starts to lurch. This is getting bad already, and I don’t know why.

“Oh, you’ll try it now. You’re not leaving that spot until you do,” my father states, smiling tightly at Maxim with a fire burning in his eyes. There’s a subtext here, but I can’t place what it is, and it’s making me nervous.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Try. The. Wine.”

“Do you want me to piss on your table or what?” Maxim barks.

“Excuse me?” my father replies, jumping up from his seat, totally enraged now.

“Shut up! Both of you sit down,” I shout, shocked at the volume of my voice and embarrassed that I had ordered Maxim to sit down when he had been trying to leave for the bathroom. “What the hell is going on here? Why are you both acting like animals?!”

Without a word, Maxim sprints out of the room, leaving me to fend for myself and defend his bizarre actions.

“Leave him alone, sweetheart. We can take care of him later,” my father says, sipping back some of the wine he had been badgering Maxim to drink.

“What’s happening? Am I insane? Why is everybody acting insane?!” I shout, unable to hold back my confusion and frustration.

My father walks over to my seat, shaking his head slowly. “Ivory, sweetheart, you and I need to have a serious conversation about your pregnancy, if in fact, you are actually pregnant,” he says, placing his hand on mine as though we were at a funeral mourning a distant relative.

“What? Of course, I’m actually pregnant! Why would I pretend to be pregnant?” I ask, lacking all disregard for my composure at this point.

“I just don’t know that Maxim wouldn’t try to convince you to act pregnant in order to get my defenses down,” he replies, still completely balanced and unflappable.

“Are you even listening to yourself?” I ask, completely appalled. “I mean, maybe he’s a little older than me, but he wouldn’t use me just to like, get to you! That’s a straight-up conspiracy theory about someone you don’t even know,” I shout.

Meredith decides to engage for once and pipes up. “Ivory, do not talk to your father like that! He has perfectly good reason not to just trust everyone that comes into his life!” she whines. She loves to emphasize that my father is so high-profile and so important.

“Meredith, you’ve been here for six months. Sit down and shut the fuck up,” I order. She gasps, nearly clutching her pearls as she gets up from her chair and stomps away in her pink Louboutins.

I’m nearly hysterical with rage at this point. Being treated like a child is one thing, but being accused of lying about my pregnancy by my own father is a line he should have never crossed.

“You’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on here!” I shout, pointing a finger at my father as he walks away from me.

My father snaps his fingers, and before I know what’s happening, I’m grabbed on both sides by the guards from outside.