Page 49 of The Bratva's Forbidden Pregnancy

Dad shook his hand. “Indeed, Mr. Winston.” He looked at the young woman beside the man and nodded subtly.

She was no older than I was, a brunette with blue eyes that complemented her dress. Her slightly tanned skin was glowing, and the diamond pearls around her neck glistened beneath the warm glow of the lights above.

“Mrs. Winston,” Dad greeted, acknowledging her as the man’s wife.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Summers,” she said, her voice sweet and melodious.

The other associates with Mr. Winston greeted my parents, and they all exchanged pleasantries.

“Sienna, look at you, glowing in elegance,” Mr. Winston said to me, laughing lightly.

I replied with a smile, uninterested in the nature of this conversation, but I couldn’t be rude, so I just pretended to indulge him.

“I don’t believe you’ve met my new wife,” he said.

It was the way he’d said it, my new wife, that almost made me scoff out loud. It sounded like she was another car he’d just recently acquired. But no, I had not met this one yet.

Mr. Winston had a reputation for his six failed marriages in ten years, each ending in a divorce. Mom always said he had a weakness for gold diggers, women who were only after his wealth and status. That wasn’t so far-fetched.

“Emily, meet Sienna. Sienna, meet Emily, my new wife,” he introduced us.

Yeah, I get it, so please stop saying new wife, I thought to myself.

“Nice to meet you, Sienna,” she said, shaking my hand.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” I replied, forcing out a smile.

Emily was a beauty; that was a fact. No wonder he’d fallen for her charms. Although I did notice something weird. While the men were talking, Emily had her eyes on my dad. I recognized that look, and the girl didn’t even hide her desire; it was so fucking glaring.

I caught my mom’s eyes, and I knew she was upset but didn’t want to create a scene, so she just held on to her husband so tightly as if to say, He’s mine, bitch.

Emily still didn’t care; her eyes never left my dad, and I was so tempted to slap that stupid smirk off her pretty face. She had no regard for my mom, nor me, and definitely not for her husband by the looks of things. She was a selfish brat.

“Hey, Em,” Mom called to get her attention. “Can I call you Em?”

“Sure.”

“Piece of advice: Keep your eyes on your husband. Some of us women can go the extra mile to protect ours.”

That was a stern warning, and I loved the way she’d put the girl in her place.

“What—what’s she talking about?” Mr. Winston turned to his wife.

“I don’t know,” she said, placing a hand on his beard before he could utter another word. “Come on, let’s just go.” She led him away.

“Uh, Paul, we’ll talk some other time,” he said, following her with a corny smile on his face.

“I hope not,” Dad said under his breath. “Ow!” he exclaimed softly as Mom hit his arm.

“Did you not see the way that Emily girl was looking at you?” she grouched.

He laughed lightly. “What was I supposed to do?”

“What were you supposed to do?” She frowned, saying words that I immediately blocked out.

Dad was laughing all through, though, attempting to make a joke out of the situation, and it was working. He knew how to calm her down.

I scoffed and shook my head; their banter was so adorable. At least they’d found love. What had I found? A man who was only obsessed with my body.

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