Page 14 of The Bratva's Forbidden Pregnancy

Not cool.

Back in Russia, about two days after Vlad’s visit, Dad had received an invite from him. Babushka was against the idea, obviously, but he said he’d be fine. He’d taken Mom with him, so I naturally asked, “What about me?”

He’d replied, “You’re staying back with the rest of the family.”

That had really hurt, and it pissed me off because I was already looking forward to seeing him again. When Dad had announced Vlad’s invitation to his place, I was sitting beside my grandmother, and my excitement soared. But he’d crushed my hopes and shattered my joy.

I didn’t know how Vlad did it, but he had somehow managed to crawl under my skin. He’d taken a place in my heart and was already living rent-free in my head. It was an amazing feeling but scary at the same time.

Why was I so attracted to this man? I was willing to rebel against my entire family. Why was that?

I threw my hands into my hair, letting out an exasperated groan.

Vlad was still in my mind: his handsome face and the scent of his cologne. I drew in a deep breath, recalling how I’d felt when my knees turned to jelly after he stopped before me. The energy that accentuated his presence had left me almost literally breathless. As he stared at me without a word, my heart had raced so fast, and my eyes rapidly blinked as I tried to stay reserved. I’d had butterflies in my belly, and the smile on my face was genuine.

Did I blush when he looked at me? I wondered.

I think you totally did, one of the voices in my head said.

Fuck, it’s so embarrassing—but he was so hot he made my heart boil.

It’s your father's friend we’re talking about, Sia. Stop having funny thoughts, my voice of reason chipped in with a sound warning.

That voice was absolutely right, but it wasn’t something I had total control over. I wanted to stop thinking about him—I really did—at least because he was Dad’s old buddy. It was just impossible to do so. He’d left a mark on my soul the day we met, and even though I was almost certain that he didn’t feel the same way about me as I did about him, I couldn’t get him out of my mind.

Thoughts of him were like poison, slowly moving through my system and eventually breaking all of my defenses. It felt good, and that was the problem.

A line from Beyoncé’s “Poison” popped into my head: “How can something so deadly feel so right?”

The sound of my phone buzzing on my nightstand interrupted my thoughts. At first, I didn’t want to answer it, but when it started buzzing again, I got out of the chair and walked toward it.

I saw Fiona’s name flashing on the screen, and with a smile, I answered. “Hi, Fi.”

“What happened? Why didn’t you pick up on the first ring?” she asked on the other line.

“Uhh…” I drawled lazily.

“You know what? Forget it—I’ve got news!” She literally shrieked on the last statement, her voice vibrating with excitement.

This had to be really good to get her so elated.

Fiona Winter was my twenty-one-year-old Russian best friend, gossip buddy, confidant, and college classmate. She was feisty, although an introvert. Thanks to my influence on her, she could socialize sometimes. Most of the time, though, she loved her private space.

We both had a passion for art and spent a lot of time studying together. On campus, wherever one of us was seen, the other wasn’t too far behind. That’s how close we were. Buddies—BFFs.

“Okay,” I said, indulging her.

“What do you mean, okay? Come on, guess.”

My mind was blank at the moment. I couldn’t think of anything other than Vlad.

“You got back together with Kyle?” I gave it a shot, raising my brows.

“What? No!” she barked.

Yep! I should not have said that. The bastard had shattered her heart, and now she hated him.

“Just tell me already,” I urged her, unwilling to play her game this morning.

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