Page 211 of The Lazarov Bratva

Rolling my eyes, I sink back down onto the bed with a grunt, and the relief I hope to feel in my ankles doesn’t reach me. They throb constantly, and my back aches with every breath, but each remaining day with my baby is a gift.

The maid shoves me back and starts winding the rope back around my raw wrists.

“Is this really necessary?” I ask tiredly. “By the time you finish, I’ll need to pee again and you’ll have to start this all over again.

“Rules are rules,” she remarks snippily. “Now, lie back. You have a visitor.”

A visitor? The only people I’ve seen since being brought here are Mara, her doctor, this maid, and one other who takes the night shift. I can’t think of anyone else Mara would trust to be near me.

The door opens, but whoever walks in is obscured by the maid as she leans over me to secure my other wrist. I crane my neck, trying to get a look at the person, and when the maid straightens up, I instantly regret it.

My blood runs cold and the restraints around my wrists turn into smothering weight.

Mikhail Kuznetsov stands at the bottom of my bed, a cold smirk twisting across his lips.

“That will be all.”

The maid ducks her head and then scurries from the room as if his very presence scalds her.

Mikhail.

I haven’t seen him in so long, but time did nothing to dull the memory of how he tried to force himself onto me or how I got the blame for leading him on.

I never thought I’d see him again.

He moves around the bed, then sits next to me and places one hand on my thigh. His touch sears through my pants right to my skin, and having him so close to my stomach has a thousand alarm bells ringing in my mind.

“Alena.”

I don’t speak.

“It’s been a long time—even longer, it feels—since we last met.” He arches one thin brow, and his smile widens.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, cursing my voice for failing me and coming out thin.

“I heard you’ll be having your baby soon.” His burning hand moves from my thigh to my belly, and reflex takes over. Using all my strength, I try to escape his touch by wrenching my body to the side, but the restraints don’t allow me to go far. Mikhail merely chuckles.

“How soon? A week? Two?” he asks, stroking his hand down my stomach, then back up.

It sickens me, and heat stings behind my eyes as frustration builds. “Don’t know.”

“I don’t believe you. I know Mara has it tracked to the second, doesn’t she? This little darling will be with us soon. Don’t worry, Mara and I will raise her to be the perfect little princess.”

“Fuck you,” I spit, unable to escape his touch even for a second.

Suddenly, Mikhail surges up, and that searing hand seals around my throat, cutting off my airway. My back arches from the bed as I choke, and his ice-cold eyes bore into mine.

“I will,” he says dangerously, bringing his face sickeningly close to mine. “Mara promised me that I will get you. As soon as that fucking baby is born, you’re all mine. Assuming you survive the childbirth, which isn’t a guarantee, but the moment that baby is out of you, you belong to me.”

No, no, that can’t be true!

“And I’m going to fuck you, Alena. I’m going to play with you until the light leaves your eyes, and then I’m sure I’ll keep fucking you until you’re cold in the ground.”

My head spins, and I pull desperately at my restraints, to no avail.

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to learn you’d run away, how much shame it brought on my Family to learn you’d impregnated yourself with someone else when you were supposed to be mine?”

His grip tightens for a moment, and cold fear lances through my heart as dots dance before my eyes.

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