Page 73 of The Bratva's Forbidden Pregnancy

Wow. That’s a good one, Mom. You got me there.

I was speechless for a minute, allowing my mind to take in my hypocrisy. Judging her for doing something that I had done also was so unfair.

“You understand how difficult some things can be to talk about, don’t you?”

“It’s different, Mom. I would have still come clean with you sooner or later, but that’s not the case with you and Dad—you had decades to come clean but didn’t,” I replied.

“You’re right,” she admitted. “We did have a lot of time to tell you the truth, but to what end?” She continued, “We didn’t see the need to tell you the truth because, no matter what the truth is,” she held my hands again, “you, Sienna, are and always will be a Summers. You know why?”

I was silent but listening.

She continued, “It’s because a day after I lost my baby, the universe handed you over to Paul, and he brought you home.” Mom smiled. “It was like my loss was replaced—like my baby was reborn.”

Her words were so comforting to hear, and the look in her eyes charged my tear glands. “I’m so sorry you had to bear that pain,” I whispered. “I can’t imagine how you must have felt.”

I had no idea that she’d had to go through that, and now I felt so silly and inconsiderate, I felt I wasn’t sensitive enough to her pain earlier—I was selfish to think it was all about me.

“You’ll never have to feel that pain,” she said, pushing a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. “But once you’ve given birth, you’ll understand that a mother’s love for her child knows no bounds.”

The air around us was filled with tension and a mix of emotions, mostly sadness, which caused us to break down in tears.

“We might not be related by blood, but I love you with all my heart.” She placed a palm on her chest and went on, “And nothing will ever change the fact that I am your mother, okay?” The tears in her eyes had started trailing down her cheeks at this point. “I am so sorry that you had to find out the way that you did. It was a painful way for the truth to come out, but like I said, this doesn’t change anything.” She searched my eyes. “At least not for me, anyway. Do you hate me now?”

“Hate you?” I wiped the streaks of tears trickling down my cheeks. “No, I don’t. I’m just sad and angry and depressed and confused, but I’d never hate you, Mom. Never,” I said amidst sobs.

“Come here,” she said in almost a whisper, her arms wide open.

I slipped into her warm embrace as she stroked my hair. “I know that it was hard, but I’m just hurting, Mom,” I confessed.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

I let go, and she placed her palm on my cheek. “It’s a lot to take in,” I said with a sniffle. “This whole situation just has me riled up, you know.”

“Wanna talk?” she asked. “I’d like to listen.”

I dried my tears. “I’m confused, Mom. I don’t know what to do about the situation with Vlad.”

She pulled me by the hand, and we both sat on the bed, her gaze never wavering.

“This whole thing with Vlad has me concerned; I’m not sure that I should go ahead and marry him—I mean, he killed my biological father. What kind of daughter would that make me?” I asked, eager to hear her response.

“You don’t think that you should marry him, or you don’t think that you want to marry him?” she inquired.

I squinted, confused.

“It’s a question of motive, sweetheart. Do you want to marry him but think that you shouldn’t, or do you think that you should marry him even though you don’t want to?” she added. “It’s a bit tricky.”

I heaved a sigh. “I want to marry him, Mom, but there’s a million reasons why I shouldn’t; he’s Dad’s best friend, he’s dangerous, he hardly sees the good in people…and to top it off, he killed my father.” The slight pause came when I lowered my voice.

She reached out and held my hand. “Since we’re talking and we’re being honest, I’ll tell you this,” she said. “Your father wasn’t a good man, Sienna, and Vlad didn’t kill him without a good reason.”

“But they were friends,” I said.

“Yes, they were,” she replied. “And that’s what made your father’s actions more hurtful. You see, Joshua and Paul both worked for Vlad back in the day, but Vlad had more trust in your biological father, Joshua. Vlad never hid anything from him, nothing at all, but it turned out that Joshua wasn’t the friend that Vlad thought he was. In fact, he was a spy for a rival organization and aided in the plot that claimed Vlad’s father’s life. Vlad was there; he watched him die in his arms.”

As she spoke, my resentment for Joshua started to grow by the second, notwithstanding that the man had been dead for twenty-one years.

“Udinov Wolkov was a good man, too good to be a Bratva boss. He was cruel and ruthless, as well, but only when absolutely necessary.”

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