Page 12 of The Bratva Bosses' Surrogate

Negative.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.

This negative result means more procedures, more waiting, more uncertainty. It also means facing Maxym, Ivan, Viktor, and their reactions. Will they be frustrated, angry, or just see it as a minor setback in their plans?

As I step out of the bathroom, the negative test in my hand, I brace myself for the conversation ahead.

The realization that no baby means no money sinks in, and with it, a sense of urgency. I can’t afford to lose this luxury.

A knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. “Come in!” I call out, expecting maybe one of the security guys or, less likely, one of the men.

Instead, it’s one of the servants. “Your lunch is ready, Miss,” he says with a polite nod.

“Uh, um, thank you. I’ll be right there,” I reply, a bit distracted.

I don’t bother changing out of my cashmere robe. At this hour, the men are usually gone, leaving me in the vast house with just the security team.

Descending the stairs to the dining room, I reflect on the food here. I always thought healthy food meant dull and tasteless options. But the chefs, in collaboration with a dietitian, have completely changed my perspective. They’ve tailored a meal plan for me, considering my weight and nutritional needs, preparing dishes that are both healthy and delicious.

And all this, even though I’m not pregnant yet.

Seated at the table, I’m immediately captivated by the vibrant hues of the grilled salmon, the enticing aroma wafting from the plate. The quinoa salad, adorned with an array of freshvegetables, is a burst of colors. It’s a far cry from the dull health food I had anticipated.

I’m halfway through the salmon, its flavor exploding in my mouth, when his deep voice cuts through the silence. “Good afternoon, Sofia.”

I freeze, fork mid-air. Maxym stands there, filling the doorway with his imposing presence.

“Maxym. I didn’t expect to see you here at this hour,” I manage to say, setting down my fork.

He walks in, a sense of purpose in his stride. “I wanted to check on you.”

His closeness is unsettling. I feel the heat radiating off him, almost too intense. The room suddenly feels smaller.

“I’m fine,” I reply, trying to sound casual, but my heart betrays me, thumping wildly.

He leans against the table, his gaze piercing. “Did you take the test?”

I nod, my throat tight. “Yes, I did.”

“And?”

“It’s negative.”

“We’ll try again,” he says, his voice steady but I can sense the underlying tension.

“Yeah, I guess.” I frown, grappling with the news. “Try again?”

“Yeah, of course,” Maxym confirms, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

A question has been nagging at me, and now seems like the time to ask. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he responds, his posture relaxed but attentive.

“So, uh, who’s the donor?” I probe, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“It’s Kayla.” His answer is straightforward, but it sends a jolt through me.

“Kayla?” I can’t hide my surprise. “So, I’ll carry that annoying lady’s baby inside me?”

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