Page 9 of The Bratva Bosses' Surrogate

Chapter 4

Viktor

As I lean against the wall of the opulent living room, my thoughts are a tangled mess. This entire situation seems surreal, almost like a plot out of some dramatic novel. Kidnapping Sofia, the surrogacy, the millions at stake – it’s a lot to take in.

I can’t believe we are going through all this hassle just to have an heir. We could have found someone more willing, more compliant, but no, we ended up with a girl who needed to be coerced. And now, it’s costing us a fortune. Perfect, just perfect.

Kayla has been a part of our group for years, a trusted assistant. She was the first choice to carry the baby. We were even ready to pay her more, but Maxym had shot down that idea, saying he didn’t want her to get attached to the baby. Now we’re left with a total stranger.

At least she’s a sight to look at.

Maxym strides into the room, his usual air of confidence somewhat diminished. I’ve always known him to be a man of action, someone who didn’t hesitate when it came to tough decisions. But now, as he joins me at the bar and pours himself a stiff drink, there’s a visible unease in his demeanor.

“I don’t know about this, Viktor,” he says, the weight of our actions apparent in his tone. “She’s not cut out for our lifestyle. We’re dragging her through hell for what? A child?”

I consider his words, knowing the gravity of our situation. “It was your idea.”

He takes a sip, his eyes distant. He avoids my statement. “Has the doctor done his part? The sooner she’s pregnant, the better.”

“Yeah, he ran some tests this morning and did what he had to. We’ll check in a week to see if she’s pregnant,” I reply, keeping my voice even.

Maxym nods, his brow furrowed in thought. “Good. Meanwhile, we need to make her more comfortable around here.”

“How?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “How would I fucking know? I don’t do small talk with women. I’m more about action, less about the chit-chat, especially outside the bedroom.”

“Fine, I’ll think of something to get her to relax.”

“I have a few ideas on how to make her relax,” Maxym says, a suggestive edge to his voice. “Just not sure if she’d be open to them.”

He lets out a low chuckle, clearly amused by his own thoughts. It’s a sound which carries a mix of confidence and a hint of mischief, classic Maxym.

Resolved, I make my way to Sofia’s room. Deep down, I know her wants and needs are secondary to our primary goal, the child. Maxym’s concern for her is purely for the sake of the baby’s safety, too.

Approaching her door, I knock, something I normally wouldn’t do, but I made a promise to Maxym.

As I wait for her to answer, I find myself considering Sofia’s role in all of this. Would she make a good mother? Not that it really matters to us, but her body certainly looks well-suited for childbirth. She’s definitely not fragile or delicate like the women who I’ve been with before. I can’t help but imagine how would it be with a woman like her.

Sofia opens the door, her eyes widening when she sees me standing in front of her. “Viktor?” she asks, “is something wrong?”

I shake my head, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. “No, nothing’s wrong. Maxym just wanted me to check in on you, see if there’s anything you need.”

She looks at me skeptically, her arms crossing over her chest in defense. “And what does he think I need?”

I take a step closer to her, closing the distance between us. “He thinks you might be more comfortable if you had someone to talk to,” I say, my voice low and smooth. “To help ease your mind.”

She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously. I have to tread carefully if I want to gain her trust.

“Look, I know this whole situation is, well, unconventional,” I drop my voice to a whisper, “but Maxym and I want you to feel comfortable here, even if it’s just until the baby is born.”

She scoffs, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Comfortable? How can anyone be comfortable in this kind of situation?”

I take a step closer, my gaze locked on hers. “I understand this isn’t ideal for you, Sofia. But believe me when I say that we’re not here to harm you. We need you for one thing, to carry our child.”

“I get that now.”

I gesture for her to sit on the bed and I take a seat next to her, noticing she’s wearing a short skirt.

---