Page 27 of Arranged Marriage By the Bratva

“Here. The results are inside.” My jaw flickers as I stare at the envelope for too long, not wanting the answer, and knowing that whatever is inside will change my life forever. I’m already racing ahead thinking the worst. If I have to kill Elena and to take out her family it will involve many steps. Some of those will include firearms and inside parties going into Sicily. It can be done, but it would be a tedious task. On the other hand, if it is my kid I’m locked in bed with the Mancinis for life, and therefore, so are the Bratva.

Blood pumps around my body in nervous fury as Yegor jumps in. “Are you going to open it? If you want to find out, you have to open it, Nikk.”

“I fucking know that, Yegor. This isn’t what I fucking need right now.” But there’s no point yelling at him because I shouldn’t have

“I don’t know about that. You should see what it says.”

“Alright, alright.”

As I open the envelope, I question Yegor. “Do you already know the results?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck.” Being a fearless leader is one of my strong suits, but today I have to control my shaking fingers as I read the results. Some of it being bullshit technical stuff, so I skip down to the answer, my heart pounding so hard the paper shakes even more.

The DNA is a match for Nikkita Orlov.

That’s all I need to see. Crumpling up the paper, Yegor takes it from me before I tear it up.

“Don’t do that. Keep it for record purposes. Looks like you’ve got a kid on the way.”

“Fucking obvious, Yegor. The question is, do I want one? And with Elena? She’s already fucked me over,” I tell him, bitterness laced in my tone.

How can Elena be carrying my child when she has no self-respect or honor to me as her husband. We both agreed to the terms, and she broke my trust. Sitting silently for too long, Yegor breaks into the rattling cage of my mind.

“What’s your plan about it?”

Sighing with a heavy heart, I shake my head. “The woman has no loyalty. What do you expect me to do, Yegor?”

Yegor clears his throat, adding in his own two cents. “You know initially I hated Elena, but after spending time with her, I’ve come to see how she’s valuable to us. She has a good head for business. More so than Bogdan. I’ve gotten to know her well in spending time with her.”

A child with Elena. A heir to our collective empires. I don’t have a clue how it’s going to work when our fake marriage contract is only supposed to be in place for a year.

“What are you saying exactly?”

“I’m saying, Boss, I think there’s more to this story. Who took those photos? You should find out.”

Anger simmers inside me. “No. It doesn’t matter who took the photos. There’s recordings too. I don’t need to see them. Hard evidence, Yegor. She has no excuse for cheating; it’s clear that’s what she was doing at that hotel with him.”

Yegor doesn’t have a comeback. Just as I thought, but Elena is a different story, and this is the first time where I’m not one step ahead.

Chapter Nineteen

Elena

I shift my hair over my shoulders, letting it fall over my back. Touching the base of my neck, I stare back at myself in the guest’s bedroom mirror, examining the fading handprints of Nikk’s wrath. Parts of my neck are still tender, and when I swallow it hurts. Shit. But his rough handling next to the downright dirty betrayal from Matteo pales in comparison. The physical wounds will heal, but the emotional damage Matteo has inflicted will not. Shaking at the echo of his name in my head, I scrape my hair together in a messy ponytail, willing myself not to fall to pieces.

He’s the one whose head I want on a platter. I touch the underside of my puffy eyes, not recognizing the woman I’m becoming. “You will burn in hell. I’ll make sure of it,” I remark, Matteo’s face popping up in my mind. I hate the fact Nikk thinks I’m lying to him, and the feelings I’m having for him are only adding to the swirl of confusion in my brain. I didn’t double-cross him, at least not in the way he thinks I did. I planned to in the long run, but Matteo—the man I least suspected—fucked me over before I could.

What I hate even more is being stuck in the confines of the guest suite unable to go anywhere. Luckily, Dr. Peterson was gracious enough to make a house call and come to me. Afterwards, a second doctor arrived, checking my vitals and collecting multiple blood samples. Tears sting at the back of my eyes as I pat my face dry, recalling the conversation as I was curious as to why he was there.

“We need a blood sample as it’s been requested by Nikkita for paternity test purposes.” Disheartened by Nikk’s lack of trust in me after getting along so well, I could barely engage in a reply.

“Oh. Well, I can tell you right now, the baby is his,” I seethed, but the doctor only gave me a see-through stare.

“Better safe than sorry,” he replied with the cutting tone of a surgeon, making me feel even more alone and like a caged animal than ever.

But even if he did let me live so he could check for paternity, Nikk was merciful. He didn’t restrict my calls and sent food in whenever I asked for it. There were a million ways he could have immediately punished me, but he didn’t. That’s something that is driving me crazy even more.

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