Page 61 of Baby for the Bratva

I place my hand on my belly, more as a joke than a serious concern.

“Oh,” he says, his eyes widening. “Yeah, we could avoid that. I’m not well versed in pregnancy precautions. Not that you’re pregnant, of course, but I understand your trauma and I’m willing to work around it.”

It’s adorable that he’s trying so hard to take my concerns seriously. My mother’s miscarriage is so far in the past that it doesn’t really bother me, but the possibility of screwing things up sits deep within me. Until I know for certain that I didn’t get myself pregnant, I’m going to behave as though I did.

28

Yuri

One thing about the Bratva is that no matter how wild things get, you can’t sit around trying to process things until the storm is over. In this case, that means going to dinner with Stella and trying to forget everything I’ve learned in the past few days.

Chekhov’s funeral will be held after this is over. I’ve chosen not to think too much about his death because it only brings me grief. I have an organization to run and a hole to dig myself out of. Grief comes later.

And then there’s the situation with Stella. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, but I fear I’m exposing her to too much of the Bratva lifestyle to simply cut her loose when the boat returns to American waters. Not only does she know too much, but I also have very real feelings for her.

Oh, and she’s possibly pregnant because neither of us had the sense to use protection.

If Chekhov was still alive – which the search team hasn’t yet ruled out yet, but I have to assume he isn’t – he would be reprimanding me for being so reckless with Stella. A baby would put my position as the head of the Bratva in extreme jeopardy.

I want a family… eventually. But now is a terrible time to be having a child. I’ve had dangerous situations, but this is getting ridiculous. The cruise has turned into an utter nightmare, and all it takes is another foolish bounty hunter to draw swarms of law enforcement to our boat and blow our entire cocaine operation out of the water.

Then what will I have to show for all my hard work? A child who will never know his father because he’s rotting in prison?

No. I can’t let it happen. I must take control of this before it’s too late. Even if it means dumping all of our cocaine into the ocean, I’ll do what it takes to make sure we’re not caught with it.

I have other options, of course, but those will have to be discussed with Akim before we carry any of them out. We won’t be doing that until we close this deal with Javell and get back on our way to the next port.

Until then, it’s just me, Stella, and a tropical Jamaican night.

“It wouldn’t be a vacation without a little shopping,” I say, leading her out into the lazy afternoon sun where a car is waiting to take us to the city. “You can get something to wear out to dinner.”

Her eyes light up, but then she gives me a suspicious look. “You’d still consider this a vacation?”

“A few days in Jamaica? Sounds like a vacation to me,” I reply with a cheeky grin. I nudge her with my elbow. “Or do you want to get some work done while we’re here?”

She scoffs. “I quit my job for this vacation. Drained my savings, ditched my responsibilities, and now I’m in Jamaica with a mafia boss. I’m not doing any damn work.”

I’m always impressed by her ferocity.

We get into the car, and my driver takes us to the small private shopping complex a few miles from the port. It’s not exactly the tropical island experience most people expect when they come to Jamaica, but we’ll get to that eventually. For now, we’re getting luxury boutiques and crisp cold air conditioning.

“Does nobody here shop at places like this?” Stella asks, peering out the window as we arrive outside the tall black building.

“They do, but I had it booked for our arrival. There won’t be anyone else here,” I reply.

She looks at me like she doesn’t believe me, but it’s difficult to deny that we’re alone once we step into the building. The only people there are the shop owners and the security guards. Nobody else is allowed in.

Stella looks up at the glittering chandelier in the lobby, then around at the empty shops. “Wow, you weren’t joking. There’s nobody here.”

I smile, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my black card. “Here,” I say, handing it to her. “Anything you want here is yours.”

She takes the card like it might shatter if it drops on the marble floor. More disbelief is written on her face, but that card is as real as they come. I could buy a multi-million-dollar car with it, and it still wouldn’t decline.

“You’re serious about this?” she asks, turning the card over in her hand.

“Of course,” I reply cheerfully. “Perks of being my girlfriend.”

She raises her eyebrows at me, a bemused smirk on her pretty lips. I have the urge to kiss them again, so I lean in do just that. She tastes like adventure mixed with an inkling of surprise.

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