Page 195 of The Lazarov Bratva

“I am thinking of the baby,” I snap, worrying at the skin along one nail. “I’m just…” There aren’t any words to explain the turmoil raging inside me. Every limb feels too long and too heavy, and if I stop pacing, then the sickness rises to the point where I’m certain I’ll turn inside out.

And Katja doesn’t deserve me snapping at her.

“I’m sorry, I’m just—I’ve been in a situation like this before, and I’m just scared. We have a plan, but it hinges on Kristof coming back alive. If he doesn’t, what am I supposed to do?”

I glance at Katja fleetingly on my way past, then continue pacing around in circles.

“I love him. I love him so fucking much. It’s like out of my books, I swear I can’t breathe properly when he’s not here, and I need him. Our baby needs him. What am I supposed to do if he never comes back? How can I survive alone?” My next breath shudders out of me, and tears sting behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.

“People talk,” Katja says softly. “The confidence in your father has wavered for years so… so no matter what happens, everything Kristof built is still here. Andrev is here. The people loyal to him are still here. If you came back to the States, people would have your back.”

“I don’t care about that,” I admit, one hand dropping to my abdomen. “None of it is even worth it without Kristof. I mean, do you expect me to lead an entire Family alone? After ousting my father?” If he’s killed Kristof, then I’ll kill him. The thought cuts through me sharply with the same clear certainty that usually comes when thinking about protecting my baby.

“I know I haven’t been here long,” Katja says, “but I’ve seen how he adores you. Even if the worst were to happen, I’m sure he’d want what’s best for you.”

She speaks sense, and yet it only irritates me. I don’t want reassurance like that. I want Kristof. Even though August is with him, it’s not enough to calm my worries.

“Fuck this.”

Abandoning the idea, I stride from the kitchen leaving Katja with the endless cups of tea. The halls are lined with fewer guards than usual since more have taken up patrolling the outer perimeter in Kristof’s absence. I head straight for the study where I spot Andrev by the window, staring intently at his phone.

“Andrev?”

He flinches and pockets his phone hastily. “Alena? You should be resting.”

“Stop. I don’t need people telling me to rest, okay? I need to know what’s going on. Where’s Kristof?”

Andrev frowns and glances up at me. “He’s with August, taking out your father, I thought?—”

“No, I know where he is. I want to know where he is now. Why hasn’t he called? It’s been hours. I don’t know how long it takes to kill someone, but this is too long, right?”

Andrev pales slightly, and his throat bobs visibly when he swallows. “I’m sure he’s just?—”

“You’re sure?” My eyes dart down to where he pocketed his phone. “You’re supposed to be in contact with him, so how are things going? Is it over? Is he on his way back?”

Andrev’s lips part, but no words come, and he glances between me and the window, then he sighs deeply.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” I demand, my heart pounding up into my throat.

“I was on a call with one of August’s men. Things seemed to be going well, but then we got cut off, and he didn’t pick up when I called back. I’ve tried Kristof, August, even the men who were stationed to watch the perimeter, and there’s been nothing.”

“This is bad.” I start pacing again, unable to remain still even for a moment, and rake both hands through my hair. “This is really bad!”

My mind runs a hundred miles a minute, flashing through all sorts of terrible scenarios. Then I come to a snap decision, the decision someone in charge would make.

I think.

I hope.

“You have to go to him.”

“What?” Andrev’s eyes widen.

“Take some men, however many you need, and you need to go there and find him, help him if he needs it, and bring him back to me.”

“No,” Andrev says immediately. “My orders are to stay here with you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

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