Page 27 of The Bratva Bosses' Surrogate

Ivan looks good. Really good, despite the night’s events. There’s something undeniably attractive about his rugged appearance. His shirt is unbuttoned at the front, revealing a hint of his chest, and there’s blood on his knuckles. I wonder briefly ifhe got into a fight; given the situation, it’s more than likely. And knowing Ivan, the other person probably got the worse end of it.

“Did you manage to find out who it was? The attack, I mean?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

He shakes his head, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “No, not yet.”

He doesn’t look at me, and I find myself staring at his profile, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hair falls just so. He’s always had an intense, commanding presence that’s hard to ignore.

But then, the paranoia creeps back in, gnawing at my thoughts. “What if they find us again? Where are we going?”

Ivan finally turns to look at me, his eyes meeting mine. There’s a seriousness in his gaze, but also a reassuring steadiness. “We’re going to a safe house. It’s secure, off the grid. You’ll be safe there, Sofia.”

His assurance is comforting, but the fear isn’t easily quelled. “But how can you be sure? After tonight...”

Suddenly, Ivan’s hand reaches out, gently cupping my cheek, and I swear my heart skips a beat. His touch is surprisingly soft.

“It will be alright, I promise. I will kill whoever dared to hurt you,” he says, his voice low and intense.

The contact sends a warm rush through me, my skin tingling where his fingers rest. His eyes are fixed on mine, fierce and protective, and in that moment, I see a different side of Ivan, one that’s both terrifying and strangely comforting.

I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks, a blush coloring my face. It’s an involuntary reaction, one I’m not entirely comfortable with, but can’t seem to control. His proximity, thefeel of his hand on my skin, it’s overwhelming, sending my senses into overdrive.

There’s a part of me that wants to look away, to break this intimate connection, but I can’t. His thumb gently strokes my cheek.

“Until you give us a baby, you’re under our protection,” he says, his voice a low growl that resonates deep within me. “And anyone who dares to touch even a strand of your hair, will lose that hand.”

I find myself leaning into his touch. “You don’t have to go that far,” I whisper.

But Ivan shakes his head, his thumb caressing my cheek. “I do. We do. That’s how it works with us. You’re not just carrying a child; you’re carrying a part of us. And we protect what’s ours, fiercely.”

His declaration, so raw and unfiltered, leaves me breathless. The danger, the violence that’s an inherent part of his world, it’s all laid bare in that statement. And yet, there’s an undeniable sense of belonging, of being valued and cared for in a way I’ve never experienced before.

Minutes pass in silence, and I find myself oddly missing the warmth of Ivan’s touch, the reassuring pressure of his hand against my cheek. I turn my gaze to the window, watching the city lights blur past us.

That’s when I notice it – a red car trailing behind us. At first, I think it’s a coincidence, but as the minutes tick by, the car remains a constant presence in the rearview mirror. A sense of unease begins to creep over me, the feeling of being watched growing stronger with each passing moment.

“Hey, Ivan,” I start, trying to keep my voice steady. “Have you noticed that red car behind us? It’s been following us for a while.”

Ivan glances in the rearview mirror, “No one is following us, Sofia.”

“But it’s been there for like ten minutes.”

He shoots another glance in the mirror, his face still calm. “It’s a common car, Sofia. Could be anyone. And we’re not that easy to track.”

I bite my lip, not entirely convinced. “I don’t know, Ivan. It just feels off.”

Ivan sighs, a hint of frustration in his voice. “Look, I get that you’re on edge after tonight, but trust me, we’re safe. We know how to cover our tracks. And if anyone was stupid enough to follow us, they’d regret it.”

As we drive on, the car eventually turns off, disappearing from view. A part of me is relieved, but another part can’t help but wonder if it was more than just a coincidence. In this world of danger and deception, it’s hard to know what’s real and what’s just fear.

As the car rolls on, the hum of the engine and the rhythm of the road lull me into a drowsy haze. My eyelids grow heavy, the events of the night weighing them down like lead. Before I know it, I’m drifting off, my head finding its way to Ivan’s lap, though I’m barely aware of it happening.

Time slips away in a blur of half-consciousness. When I finally come to, I’m greeted by the gentle sensation of Ivan’s hand running through my hair. I don’t move, not wanting to break the calm that’s settled over me.

“You’re awake,” he murmurs, his voice low and soft.

I nod, not trusting my voice. There’s a warmth in his touch, a comfort I didn’t expect to find here, with him.

“We’re almost at the safe house,” he continues, his fingers still threading through my hair.

---