Page 12 of The Bratva King's Pregnant Bride

One week later

The cafeteria buzzed with conversation and the clatter of silverware against plates.

The air was redolent with the smell of freshly-baked bread and the citrus tang of orange juice. It was just what I’d ordered, yet I barely touched the food before me; my mind was elsewhere.

It was like I had travelled back in time: the night at the club and what had happened after it; the memory wasn’t like Dominik Sharov’s name—which was etched on the edge of a photograph too faded to make out—it was clear as day, vivid in my mind.

His dark brown hair tickling my skin when he kissed me, those strikingly dark, almost feline eyes of his with their hidden depth, like shaded pools in a verdant forest—the mystery haunted me. My hands roving over the tattoos on his tall, powerful body.

I couldn’t forget his mesmerizing aura of restrained power, the effortless charm he exuded. He was the definition of a labyrinthine puzzle wrapped in a gently-unraveling ribbon.

I’d known I wanted someone mature that night… but Dominik had been almost too mature. His style made him stand out. I wondered if the universe had indeed sent him my way, or if it was mere happenstance. And if it had been a coincidence, then how come my mind kept revisiting his features? Why this burning desire to know him?

Well, he’s much older, I tried to convince myself. But that doesn’t matter, argued another part of me. He was a charming man: suave, sexy, and so damn confident it bordered on arrogance. But even that was so damn hot.

Chuckling, I shook my head; I saw what was happening here—a little devil-and-angel situation. I imagined them situated on my shoulders, whispering wicked words but invisible to the eye.

I knew what I wanted—no, I was sure of what I wanted. A bright future, a successful career… But this guy. It was supposed to have been a one-night thing, so why was my entire body craving another encounter?

Those tattoos on his body… What did he do for a living? Was he part of a brotherhood or something? Where had he come from?

The plastic chair beside me suddenly scraped the floor, pulling me out of my reverie.

“I’ve been watching you,” Jenna said. “You haven’t even touched your food.”

I looked down at my tray with disinterest; I’d completely forgotten about it.

Jenna peered at me, her eyebrows puckered together. “Is everything okay?”

It was just like Jenna to know when something was on my mind, and in this case, I would agree it must be pretty obvious.

Jenna was always like that. She’d been excited when I agreed to a night out and taken it upon herself to decide what I would wear, where we would go to. I was completely ignorant when it came to nightlife, and if I’d been left to decide, we probably would’ve ended up in a library or something.

I shook my head and attempted an unconcerned smile. “I’m okay, Jen. Just distracted.”

Jenna wasn’t fooled. She pursed her lips, tapping her fingers on the table. “You remember when you wore that long look almost all day?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“A question from this particular course had you stumped, and while you were with your friends, your mind was back at that class, going through your notes, trying to figure out what you’d missed. In the end, you told me about it, and I was able to find someone who knew the topic to help you out.”

I rolled my eyes. “Then, he spent the next few months pestering me for a date, but I wasn’t interested.” The guy had made moon-eyes at me, all across campus, for weeks. “I had to rearrange my schedule the next semester because he wouldn’t leave me alone!” I poked her side as she laughed. “So yeah, thanks for that one.”

Jenna wiped her eyes, grinning. “Well, that’s the point, but yeah—my bad. I didn’t know he had a crush on you, honestly!” At my pained expression, she started laughing again. “I promise! When I mentioned you, he literally acted like he didn’t know you. It was only later on that we figured out that he was obsessive.”

“And there is none more dangerous.”

“And there is none more dangerous,” Jenna agreed, her expression growing somber. “My point is, you should tell me what’s up. It’s obvious something’s on your mind. I’ll help you with anything—you know that.”

Relenting, I grinned and quietly thanked God that Jenna and I were attending the same university, and that our paths had crossed. So, taking a deep breath, I told her, “I’ve been thinking about the night at the club.”

Grabbing a roll off my plate, Jenna tilted her head to the side. “What about it?” she asked, tearing a chunk off and popping it into her mouth.

I eyed her as she chewed, but didn’t comment on her bread theft. She was always stealing my food; I’d long ago given up trying to stop her, and I wasn’t eating it anyway. “Well, I didn’t tell you this part, but… you know how I disappeared after a while?”

“Yeah. You had me real worried. If not for your text, I’d’ve been really put out.” Her words were light, but I could see the concern in her eyes.

I put a hand on her arm. “I would never let you go through that stress, seeing how much you care for me.”

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