Page 25 of The Bratva King's Pregnant Bride

I knew he was doing it for the baby—and since I really didn’t know what to do about that, I stopped fighting him on it.

He was coming over, but not for a while. Still, I moved to the window, and when I looked down, I saw a black car that looked like the one he usually drove, waiting.

Unaccountably, excitement welled up inside me as I glanced at the clock. Huh. He’s early.

“I’ll have to call you back,” I blurted, ending the call without waiting for Jenna to respond. Oddly, Dominik’s presence seemed about to brighten my day. Or so I felt.

A soft breeze caressed my skin when I stepped outside. It stirred my hair, which moved like a thing alive. I approached the car, like I always did, to greet Dominik. However…

Something took my eyes to the plate number—the first difference I noticed. Then, three men stepped out of the car, all strangers.

A wave of unease washed over me, and my eager stride faltered.

Usually, Dominik called to notify me of even the slightest of changes, so as not to worry or confuse me. Right now, I was worried and confused.

A fourth man stepped out of the car. He wore a black jacket over a red shirt, a benign smile plastered across his too-friendly face.

If the three strangers advancing slowly towards me hadn’t made it clear enough that something was wrong, seeing this man would’ve sealed the deal.

A chill walked its way up my spine, and my eyes darted from side to side, noting the grimness in each man’s eyes. It sent my heart into a gallop. What’s going on?

With every part of me on high alert, I instinctively turned and, with a strength I didn’t know I possessed, ran back inside; I took the stairs two at a time, hearing the thumping of heavy footsteps right behind me.

Reaching my apartment, I slammed the door behind me and threw the deadbolt home, then backed away from the door, watching it.

My heart pounded hard against my sternum, sending blood and adrenaline racing through my veins. I heard the echoes of horror in my head, voices screaming at me: Run—hide!

The pounding footsteps reached the door, then paused. After a moment, I heard a faint metallic click as someone fiddled with the lock.

This was it—but there was nowhere to run. Hide.

I scrambled under the bed, hoping against hope that they wouldn’t think to check there. Looking back, it wasn’t the smartest move, but I really wasn’t thinking; I just didn’t want to be seen.

The door creaked opened, and I saw three large sets of shoes enter. Stifling a whimper, I did my best to calm my breath.

A fourth person entered the room, and without thinking, I knew who it was: the very man who’d confirmed my fears that something was wrong.

“We have a deadline, love,” he called. “Don’t keep us. I know you’re in here. I’m quite certain you couldn’t have made your way out. Just come out and hear us, that’s all I ask—then, we’ll be done.”

I saw the legs of three men surround the bed on all sides—save the head of the bed behind me, which was pressed against the wall—and I knew they had figured out where I was hiding. I stifled a curse as one bent low, then squirmed to the side, only to be caught and dragged out by another.

My hands scrabbled for purchase on the floorboards, and I screamed; still, nothing discouraged the men. Once they had successfully dragged me out and sat me on the bed, the first thing they did was stuff a piece of cloth into my mouth, after which they tied my hands behind my back.

The man in the red shirt sauntered over with his gaze to the floor, still wearing that annoying smile. Finally looking up, he said, “You can call me Mike—Mike Simmons. I am the boss of the Red Jackets. I’m sure you’ve heard of us, unless… Well, Dominik did do his best to get rid of even the memory of us.”

He looked up, examining the stipple blanketing the ceiling of my bedroom. “You see, we used to own all these.” He raised his hands in a sweeping gesture that took in the apartment and, I assumed, the entire building, the smile never leaving his face. “We had an agreement—till he breached that agreement.”

I mumbled around the fabric filling my mouth, and he gestured to one of his men, who removed the rag from between my lips.

I coughed, gasping for air. “What do you want from me?” I finally managed.

Mike shrugged; his smile never wavered, and it was starting to creep me out. “Really, you’re just a pawn in the grand scheme of things, Maya.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Maya—that’s your name, right? Because I like to think I did my homework right this time.”

I glared at him. “What ‘grand scheme’?”

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