Chapter 2 - The Man Who Came Too LateNatasha ran.
She did not know where she was going.
She only knew she could not stay in the lobby.
The old woman grabbed her wrist and pulled her through a side corridor just before the gunman turned his head.
"Move."
"Who is he?"
"No talking."
They pushed through a service door.
Cold air hit Natasha's face.
Chicago rain blurred the alley into silver streaks.
A black sedan waited at the curb.
The old woman shoved Natasha inside.
The driver accelerated before Natasha had even shut the door.
"What is happening?"
The woman looked behind them.
"Your name is Natasha Volkov."
"I know my name."
"No."
Her voice shook.
"You know the name you were given."
Natasha stared.
"What are you talking about?"
The woman swallowed.
"Your father was Viktor Volkov."
Natasha felt nothing.
The name meant nothing.
"Never heard of him."
"You weren't supposed to."
The woman reached into her coat and removed a folded file.
"Carlo knew."
Natasha opened it.
There were photographs.
A young Carlo Tomlin.
A younger Viktor Volkov.
A photograph of a woman holding a newborn.
The woman was Natasha's mother.
The baby was Natasha.
Then there was another photograph.
Leo.
At ten years old.
Standing beside Carlo.
Natasha looked closer.
Behind Leo was a man whose face had been scratched out.
"Who is that?"
The woman said nothing.
"Who?"
Before she could answer, the sedan jerked violently.
The driver cursed.
A black SUV had rammed them from behind.
Natasha grabbed the seat.
Another impact.
Glass shattered.
The woman screamed.
The sedan spun.
Natasha's shoulder slammed into the door.
Then everything stopped.
For three seconds, there was no sound.
Then came gunfire.
The woman reached for Natasha.
"Get down."
Natasha dropped.
Bullets punched through the rear windshield.
The driver returned fire.
"Who are they?" Natasha shouted.
The woman looked at her.
"The same people who killed Carlo."
Natasha's stomach twisted.
She covered it instinctively.
The woman noticed.
Her eyes widened.
"You're pregnant."
Natasha said nothing.
"How long?"
"Eight weeks."
The woman closed her eyes.
"No."
"What?"
"No, no, no."
The woman looked terrified.
"That changes everything."
A door was ripped open.
Someone grabbed the old woman by the coat.
Natasha heard a gunshot.
Then silence.
She screamed.
A second later, a hand covered her mouth.
A familiar voice whispered into her ear.
"Don't make a sound."
Natasha's entire body locked.
Leo.
He dragged her out of the wrecked car.
She stared at him.
Rain streamed down his face.
His shirt was soaked.
Blood covered one sleeve.
His expression was furious.
Not cold.
Not detached.
Furious.
"What are you doing here?"
He looked at the bodies.
Then at her.
"I could ask you the same question."
"I left."
"I know."
"You told me to."
"I know."
"Then why did you follow me?"
His eyes dropped to her stomach.
Only for a fraction of a second.
Natasha noticed.
Her heart stopped.
"You knew," she whispered.
Leo's expression became unreadable.
"Knew what?"
She realized he was looking at her differently.
Not at her face.
At the hand she had instinctively placed over her stomach.
"You're sick," he said.
"I'm fine."
"You've been vomiting for six days."
Natasha went still.
He had noticed.
Of course he had.
Leo noticed everything.
"How many times?"
Her lips parted.
"What?"
"How many times have you been sick?"
She stared at him.
He stepped closer.
"Natasha."
She backed away.
"Don't."
His voice lowered.
"Are you pregnant?"
The world seemed to stop.
She said nothing.
Leo's face changed.
Not joy.
Not anger.
Something more frightening.
Calculation.
"How far?"
She whispered.
"Eight weeks."
For the first time in three years, Leo Tomlin looked genuinely shocked.
His gaze moved to her stomach.
Then back to her face.
"Mine?"
Natasha nodded.
He closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, something inside them had hardened.
"Get in the car."
"No."
"Natasha."
"I left because you wanted me gone."
"I changed my mind."
"You don't get to change your mind now."
He stepped toward her.
"You're carrying my child."
"Exactly."
"And someone just tried to kill you."
She stared at the dead bodies behind him.
Leo's voice became dangerously quiet.
"They weren't trying to kill you."
Natasha's blood froze.
"What were they trying to kill?"
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Leo looked directly at her stomach.
"The baby."
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