Chapter 118 A Poisonous Conversation

Chapter 118 A Poisonous Conversation
Vicky:

Several months had passed, and the pregnancy was going smoothly, without any reason for concern. Of course, I was still considered high-risk, but none of the fears came true, and we successfully made it through the dangerous first trimester.
My little belly had already started showing nicely, and my breasts were beginning to fill out as well. The second part, in particular, made my husband very happy.
Well… not exactly. What really made him ecstatic was the fact that the ban on vaginal penetration was lifted in the second trimester.
Sure, all this time we managed perfectly fine without it—but it’s like being allowed to have something but not fully enjoy it. Especially when your hormones take over the steering wheel and demand sex like it’s oxygen! I still hadn’t experienced any morning sickness, and I really hoped it would stay that way, because there was still more than half the journey ahead.
Our boys had finally started walking! Now no one has any peace. Those two, like a seasoned criminal duo, operate in perfect coordination and disturbingly good strategy. The moment they climb somewhere they shouldn’t and you try to pull them away, they scatter in different directions—and you have no idea which one to chase first.
Our nanny, Alexandra, now has her hands more than full. I’ll never be as close with her as I was with Valentina—this woman is more reserved and strict—but the boys listen to her. And maybe that’s exactly what two tiny delinquents like them need.
Valentina had visited us a few times. She hadn’t crossed paths with Mr. Yartsev again—which clearly pleased her, though it also made her quietly sad. She probably thinks no one notices, but I see it every time: that fleeting, aching look in her eyes whenever someone mentions the elder Yartsev.
As for Oleg himself—he constantly walks around with a storm cloud over his head. I’ve overheard more than once how he was tearing into house staff or yelling at subordinates over the phone. Kirill and Nazar also felt his wrath from time to time.
Well… Nazar deserved it—Yartsev Sr. simply couldn’t forgive his shameful little side job.
His anger, however, never extended to me or the children. The moment he saw his grandsons and my tiny rounded belly, the storm clouds instantly vanished, replaced by a glowing sun. The kids adored him, and he adored them back.
And honestly… it felt a little unfair, because they didn’t cling to my father nearly as much as they clung to Kirill’s!
That disastrous interview had eventually been buried and publicly refuted. The red-haired blogger didn’t have any hard proof to back her accusations—only a video of me entering the hotel, and Kirill arriving some time later. She had been bluffing, hoping to provoke a reaction. And unfortunately, she succeeded.
Even though her own future now looked very problematic, the effect of her “sensation” lingered—because not everyone believed the quick official rebuttal.
As it turned out, her informant was Mila. The brunette hadn’t forgiven Kirill for being cold to her and ignored all warnings. She’d been far too close to both Nazar and Kirill, learned a lot over time, stored it all away—and then used the information to try and ruin our lives later.
The Yartsev brothers said they had “handled the Mila problem,” and now she would be glancing over her shoulder every evening, too scared to even look in our direction again. I didn’t ask for details—I trust my husband, and I don’t want to dig into all that filth.
Our honeymoon never happened. Because of the risks to the baby, we decided not to travel anywhere far, especially not by plane. After our little girl is born, we’ll go on a family trip together.
Yes, this time we’re having a daughter—and the Yartsevs are thrilled. Finally, their male dynasty will be diluted by someone other than just me.
During these months, Kirill has changed a lot. Not outwardly, of course—but in how he treats me. He brings me flowers and gifts, invites me on dates, and tries his best to spend time with me and the family. I don’t know if it’s even possible, but I think I love him even more now. He’s always there, and we have no secrets. If we disagree on something, we talk it through immediately—honestly, directly, without sugarcoating or dancing around the subject.
Dasha and I talk on the phone often and sometimes go for walks. Just a couple of days ago, she gave birth to two boys, but I haven’t been able to visit her yet. I definitely will—I want to congratulate my new friend properly.
Marina started dating a new guy, and judging by everything, it’s getting serious. She’s glowing—being courted beautifully, doted on, practically carried around in his arms. I’m insanely happy for her, and I hope to meet her new boyfriend soon.