Page 11 of The Bratva Bosses' Surrogate

Sofia’s moans become louder, more urgent with each passing second.

She tightens around my fingers, her walls pulsing as she reaches her climax. With a final thrust of my fingers and a flick of my thumb, I push her over the edge. Sofia’s body trembles with the force of her orgasm, a sheen of sweat covering her flushed skin.

As she comes down from her high, I watch her with satisfied eyes.

“That should help ease your pain,” I smirk.

I withdraw my fingers slowly, giving her a moment to gather her thoughts. Sofia’s eyes flutter open, glassy with desire and satisfaction. She looks at me with a mixture of disbelief and awe.

“I... I didn’t expect that,” she stammers.

She shifts slightly on the bed, readjusting her skirt and pulling it down to cover herself. Her breathing remains heavy, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath.

I reach over to the nightstand and grab a tissue, offering it to her. “Here,” I say gently, “to clean up.”

Sofia takes the tissue, wiping herself carefully before discarding it into the nearby wastebasket. She looks at me, her eyes searching for something. Recognition, perhaps. Understanding.

Seizing the moment, I decide to leave the door open for future encounters, trying to sound nonchalant. “Whenever you need a release, you can come by my room,” I say, a smile playing on my lips.

Her response is immediate. “Um... thank you, Viktor.” She blushes deeply.

“You’re welcome, Sofia,” I reply, my voice laced with a seductive tone. “I’ll always be here to take care of you.”

With that, I stand up and make my way to the door.

Chapter 5

Sofia

One of my favorite things, something I’ve always longed to do but could rarely indulge in, is to take a long, hot shower, shave my legs, and then slip into clean sheets. Back in my cramped apartment, this simple luxury was often just a distant dream. But here, in this extravagant place, I feel like a literal queen. Wrapping the soft cashmere bathrobe around me feels sinfully delightful.

This is utterly ridiculous, yet in the best possible way.

I never imagined I would experience such luxury. To be honest, I’d be lying if I said I hated it. Hell, it’s amazing here. I have my own personal chef, food delivered to my door whenever I want, and if I wish to seek some physical pleasure, Viktor’s room isn’t far away.

But it’s been a week since that day. Since Viktor touched me. I can’t deny it felt good. More than good, great even.

Maybe I shouldn’t have let it happen, but that doesn’t change the fact I really, really needed it.

I haven’t gone to his room since then. Maybe it’s shyness, or perhaps it’s because he’s never mentioned it again. I think he wants me to make the first move this time. Will I? I honestly don’t know. The temptation is there, a constant whisper in the back of my mind. But there’s also a part of me that’s hesitant, unsure about crossing that line again.

I sigh, lost in my thoughts.

Shifting my thoughts away from Viktor and the complicated emotions he stirs in me, I remind myself of the real reason I’m here. It’s time to take that pregnancy test.

As I prepare to take the test, my thoughts briefly flicker to the egg donor. I wonder who she is. Did she choose this willingly, or was she coerced like me? The thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth, but I push it aside. Right now, I need to focus.

I head to the bathroom, the pregnancy test in hand. This small, plastic stick holds so much weight, so many implications for my future. I take a deep breath and go through the motions, the sound of my heart pounding loud in my ears.

I set the test down and wait, watching as the minutes tick by slowly, each second stretching out endlessly.

As I wait for the result of the pregnancy test, my mind wanders, reflecting on the bizarre turn my life has taken. This whole experience feels like a strange, twisted vacation. Sometimes, I almost forget I was essentially kidnapped, brought here against my will. But then I remember that first day, the moment they gave me a choice. And I chose to stay. For the money, for the opportunity it presented. And truth be told, I don’t regret that decision.

The luxury of this house, the way my every need is catered to, it’s hard to continuously feel like a victim when I’m surrounded by such comfort. It’s a constant battle between gratitude and guilt, freedom and confinement.

I’m allowed to leave the house, to take strolls along the beach. But of course, they’re always watching. The reality is, there’s nowhere for me to go, even if I wanted to escape. And why would I? I’m safe here, and there’s a promise of a future I never could’ve imagined. But that safety comes with a price. My freedom and a piece of my soul, traded for luxury and security.

I then stare at the pregnancy test, it’s one line.

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