Page 4 of The Bratva Bosses' Surrogate

Her face drains of color, and she looks genuinely scared. I can’t say I’m surprised; this isn’t the kind of visit anyone expects.

I take a moment to really look at her. She looks even better than in her photos. Healthy, glowing. She has a slender waist, and the curve of her hips? Perfectly formed for childbearing.

And she’s beautiful, too, more so than I’d anticipated. Her blonde hair looks luxurious, her lips desirable. But then I remind myself none of that really matters in the grand scheme of things.

“Sorry for showing up unannounced, but we need to start this process as soon as possible. I’m here to take you home,” I state, trying to sound more reassuring than threatening.

She swallows hard, “Oh... yes, sure. Come in.”

I step inside, the door closing behind me with a soft click. She gestures awkwardly towards the living room. “Please, have a seat, Mr...”

“Maxym,” I supply.

“Mr. Maxym,” she repeats, her voice trembling. “Thank you for coming by. I wish you’d called first.”

She’s standing near the kitchen counter, her body tense, like she’s ready to bolt at any second.

“Yes, I should’ve called. Sorry about that,” I say, trying to ease the tension. But I can tell she’s on edge. This isn’t going to be easy, but it’s necessary. We need an heir, and she’s the key.

“So, um, Sonya, was it?” I ask, trying to remember her name.

“Sofia, actually,” she corrects me, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Could I have five minutes to pack?”

“Sure,” I reply, trying to sound accommodating. “Only bring what’s absolutely necessary. You’ll have everything you need at the house.”

“Mhm, I’ll be right back,” she says, quickly disappearing into another room.

I take a seat on the couch, pulling out my phone to check messages while waiting. Nothing from Ivan or Viktor. The most recent one is from Kayla,Everything is handled, here’s the address.Nice work posing as Stacey, Kayla.

I send a quick text to Ivan and Viktor,She’ll be ready to leave in a second

They’re in the car outside, ready to step in if needed. I didn’t want to bring them up here, two more strangers might have scared her even more. For now, it’s just about getting her out of here smoothly and to the house. That’s where the real work begins.

Minutes tick by, and I get restless. Something doesn’t feel right. I stand up and head towards the room Sofia went to pack in. But she isn’t packing; she’s on the phone.

“Who are you talking to?” I ask, a hint of suspicion in my tone.

“Um... no one,” she stammers, but her voice betrays her.

I hear a voice on the other end of the line, and my instincts kick in. I can’t take any risks. In one swift motion, I snatch the phone from her hands. It’s 911. Of course, she called 911.

And here I was, going easy on her.

Suddenly, she lunges at me, pushing hard in a desperate attempt to escape. I manage to hang up the call, hearing the dispatcher’s voice fading away, “Ma’am, ma’am, are you there?”

She’s almost to the living room, about to make it out. But I can’t let that happen. With reluctance in every move, I pull out my Glock and point it at her. “Stop, or you’re dead.”

Sofia freezes in her tracks, her eyes widening in terror as she takes in the sight of the gun aimed at her. She slowly raises her hands in surrender, her breaths coming in shaky gasps.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stutters, tears welling up in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to... I just panicked.”

I keep my gun steady, my heart pounding against my chest. This isn’t how I wanted things to go. My plan was to calmly bring Sofia to the house, explain everything, and assure her she’ll be taken care of. But now, the situation has spiraled out of control.

She pleads, “Don’t, please, don’t.”

“Put your hands behind your back,” I command, my voice cold and commanding. We can’t afford any more surprises.

She complies, slowly lowering her hands and interlocking them behind her back. Her shoulders slump with defeat. I never wanted to make her feel this way, but there’s no turning back now.

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