Page 60 of Baby for the Bratva

Clara nods. “They told me I could be rich.”

“You could’ve, but you fucked it up,” he replies with a cold laugh. “You killed my right-hand man.”

There’s fear in Clara’s eyes, but there’s also confusion. She doesn’t seem to know what the hell she’s doing on this cruise ship, or who she’s supposed to be targeting. She heard about the money and swung blindly.

I find it sad, actually. She probably doesn’t even know why someone put a bounty on Yuri’s head, only that she could get rich if she killed him.

“You honestly thought Chekhov was me?” he asks, stepping toward Clara with clenched fists. “You thought you were killing me?”

She tries to move from him, but there’s nowhere for her to go. “I thought he… I thought he was you. He was in your room.”

Yuri pulls his head back, frowning deeper than before. “In my room? Do you even know where my room is?”

Clara nods. “Yes, someone tried to shoot you. That’s how I found out.”

Yuri groans, sliding his fingertips across his forehead. “Good God, you’re an idiot. You are a fucking idiot.”

I get it now, but I don’t think Clara understands her mistake. The Yuri that was shot wasn’t the same Yuri she’s talking to now. She must’ve learned about the shooting, thought he was still alive, saw Chekhov investigating the room, and targeting him as Yuri.

It’s a messy situation, and I can understand why Yuri is so frustrated with it. People are dying left and right because of these rogue bounty hunters. They’re all amateurs trying to make a fortune at Yuri’s expense.

The whole thing is insane and more than a little scary. If they can kill Chekhov thinking that he’s Yuri, I feel like people would be more than willing to kidnap me to lure Yuri into a trap.

Suddenly, I realize I’m not Yuri’s captive at all. I’m the one who needs him, not the other way around.

“You killed an innocent man,” Yuri says to Clara, his voice cold and dry. “You will be held accountable for that.”

I expect to see tears in Clara’s eyes, perhaps a desperate plea for forgiveness, but she doesn’t seem bothered by any of this. A true psychopath.

“I told you the truth,” she says plainly. “What are you going to do to me?”

Yuri glances over his shoulder at me, looking for guidance. I don’t want to be the one making decisions like this, but Clara doesn’t seem sorry at all. I don’t hate her because I have no real connection to Chekhov, but I do realize that she’s not someone we should be letting free like nothing happened.

Today, I feel the first possibility of corruption creeping into my soul. The first real decision I have to make as a woman involved with the Bratva. Morality simply doesn’t apply here. You either kill, or you are killed, and I’m learning that very quickly.

“An eye for an eye,” I suggest, choosing the least messy option. “She should experience what she put Chekhov through.”

Yuri smirks. “You know what? I’m really starting to like you.”

“You should. I’m your girlfriend.”

Yuri’s smile widens, and Clara shoots me a nasty look. It’s clear she has no remorse for her actions, so I match her lack of empathy with a nasty look of my own, showing her I simply don’t care what she thinks. She’s an evil person, plain and simple.

Yuri claps his hands together, turning to one of his men to address him. “Take one of the smaller boats and toss her a few miles from shore when it gets dark. Make sure you burn her belongings.”

A chill runs through me at the thought of being thrown into the ocean. I can’t imagine having to drown out there in the darkness without any hope of making it back to shore.

I also wonder how long I would get in prison for being involved in this, but I fear I’ve already gone too far to turn back.

I choose to blame it on Tyler. It’s almost comical that he drove me into this situation. Never in a million years did I think I would be conspiring with a mafia boss to toss a woman into the ocean, but here I am.

Unhinged is one word for it. I wonder if I’ve lost my mind, or this is just the natural progression of my life. One bad decision after another. No matter what I do, it only gets crazier.

Yuri appears unbothered by it, taking my hand and leading me out of the cargo area so that business can continue as usual. “I bet you’re hungry,” he says. “How about an early dinner?”

My stomach growls at the mention of food. “No seafood, though,” I say.

“Why not?”

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