Page 42 of The Bratva Queens' Kings

Stepping closer, I assert with as much authority as I can muster, "You'll be all the way back. Me and Grigori go in first, Lana."

Silence follows, her back to me, her focus unwavering. I reach out, capturing Lana's hand, forcing her to face the gravity of the situation. "You hear me?"

When she doesn’t respond, I tighten my grip, my next words laced with an intensity born of fear and the fierce desire to protect. "If it takes chaining you here in this room to keep you safe, that's what I'm gonna fucking do."

Her eyes finally meet mine, a storm of emotions swirling within them. I press on, needing her to understand, to truly hear me. "So, you gotta promise me that you won't do anything stupid while carrying our baby. Those men... they don't care about Julia. They want you dead."

Lana's gaze softens, a flicker of vulnerability cutting through the layers of determination and rage. She squeezes my hand, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. "I promise," she whispers, "I promise they will pay."

Fuck, if Perez thinks he's gearing up for a war, he's damn right he's got one coming. And if that bastard so much as lays a finger on Lana again, I'll take him out with my bare hands. No hesitation, no mercy.

I release her reluctantly and turn to Grigori who is watching us with guarded eyes, aware of the unspoken exchange between Lana and me.

"Grigori," I command, "we need every able man on board. Lana stays behind." He just nods at me, his loyalty never wavering.

The next hour is a blur - one minute we're plotting strategy and the next we're loading guns and stocking up on ammunition. The ice-cold touch of steel sends a thrill coursing through my veins; it's always been like this before a fight—all anticipation mixed with rage and desperation.

"Are you ready?" I ask, my voice low, every word tinged with the weight of what's to come.

Lana turns to me, her eyes blazing with a fierce determination that's become her signature. "Never been readier," she answers, her tone laced with the resolve of a warrior gearing up for battle. There's no doubt, no fear in her voice—just the unbreakable spirit of a woman who's faced hell and come back swinging.

Chapter 21

Lana

We're in the war room, and it's all hands on deck. Julia, my rock, my anchor since I was just a four-year-old terror tearing through the neighborhood, is in trouble. The world of the bratva was my entire universe, vast and terrifying, ruled by my father's iron fist. He was the head of the syndicate, a man whose presence filled every room with fear and respect.

Julia's entrance into my life was as unexpected as it was life-changing. Her father, Mikhail, was one of my dad's most loyal men, a true believer in the cause, and he'd brought his family into the fold.

This one time, oh, it was a classic Lana stunt. Managed to get my hands on a box of permanent markers. Thought it'd be brilliant to give the mansion's white walls a bit of a makeover. Artistic genius, I called it. Dad? Not so much.

He was livid, shouting like he was trying to make his voice echo across all of Russia, pointing at the "masterpiece" I'd created. Honestly, thought steam might start coming out of his ears. I was in for it, no two ways about it. Then, in swoops Julia, like some kind of guardian angel in sneakers. She was a bit older, always seemed like she knew all the secrets of the universe. Or, at the very least, how to handle my dad when he was in one of his moods.

"I did it," she declared, standing firm, chin up, even as my dad rounded on her. The courage of her! I was awed, still am when I think about it. Julia, taking the fall for my creative spree, saying she thought it'd cheer up the place. She had this way about her, even then, making you believe she could talk her way out of or into anything.

My dad, he was taken aback. Julia's dad was his right hand, after all. Couldn't very well go off on her the same way he would with me. So, he just grumbled something about "kids these days" and stalked off, leaving us alone.

I remember looking up at her, eyes probably as big as saucers. "Why'd you do that?" I asked, voice small. I was in awe, completely and utterly in the Julia fan club from that moment on.

She just shrugged, ruffled my hair (which I usually would've swatted anyone else for), and said, "What are friends for, right?"

And just like that, we were thick as thieves. Julia, with her fearless heart and wicked smarts, and me, well, the Bratva princess with a knack for finding trouble. She's had my back since day one, stepping into my messes, standing by me through the worst of it.

So now, plotting how to get her back, it's not just duty. It's personal. They've taken my Julia, the one who stood up for me when all I had to offer was my friendship and a shared penchant for mischief. I'd burn the world to ashes to get her back.

If getting Roman out of the picture is what it takes, so be it. The sting of betrayal from Roman cuts deep, but Julia... Julia's loyalty is unshakeable. For her, I'd go through hell and back, and it looks like hell's gates are just ahead.

We are mobilizing in preparation for an assault on Perez's warehouse. It's a fortress, but every fortress has its weaknesses. And tonight, we exploit every single one.

Sliding into the car, my movements are slower, more deliberate. The pregnancy is a living, breathing, kicking reminder of stakes higher than ever. As I settle in, a sharp pain seizes me, a cruel twist right where my heart and fears lie.

"Ugh," escapes me before I can help it, my hand instinctively clutching at my belly, trying to shield, to protect.

Grigori's at my side in an instant. He steadies me, his hands gentle but firm on my belly, his gaze locking with mine. "Are you okay?"

I nod, drawing a shaky breath, leaning into his arm for support. "Y-yeah. I'm fine." But the lie tastes bitter. I'm scared, not for me, but for what's to come, for the life I'm fiercely determined to bring into a world that's anything but gentle.

"You sure you're okay?" Grigori presses, the lines of worry etching deeper into his face.

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