Page 28 of Knocked-Up Bratva Prisoner

His voice is a gentle whisper. Deep and soothing.

I take a shaking breath in as I try to stop crying because I am sure it will make him angrier.

“Clara. Little fox. Open your eyes.”

I feel his fingers brush over my cheeks, wiping away my tears.

His voice is soothing and calm.

I open my eyes, blinking. Rubbing my hand across my face to try and hide the evidence of my weakness. My tears.

The way he is looking at me takes me by surprise. I don’t see any anger in his face anymore.

“I’m so sorry, little fox,” he says, his hand wrapping around my jaw as though he is caressing me. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I don’t know what to say. Is this some kind of trick? Is he going to suddenly flip back to his other mood? I stare at him, wide-eyed, waiting for whatever is coming next. My uncle never calms down this quickly.

He screams and shouts and smashes things. He breaks everything in reach and yells for as long as he feels like while his face goes red and the veins on his neck and forehead pop out like angry red snakes. He doesn’t stop for at least an hour once he’s started and he gets nasty. Really nasty. Never hitting me, well not before tonight, but his words cut into me, belittling me and making me feel worthless.

Everything my uncle makes me feel when he gets angry is pulsing through my blood right now. A default reaction by my body because it remembers.

Alexei keeps his eyes locked on mine. “It’s okay, I promise you. It’s okay,” he soothes, and the deepness of his voice rumbles through my chest in such a way that I take a slow, long breath. I can feel the tension leaving my body. How is he doing this?

Blinking a few times, I can’t look away from him. His eyes are bright blue and so calm now.

“I’m sorry I shouted.”

“Uh," I stammer, not sure what’s happening. Not sure what to say.

He shifts positions on the bed so that he isn’t leaning over me, but rather lying next to me. Because our hands are cuffed together, he wraps his arm around me and pulls me up against his body.

I shiver.

Not from fear.

From the feeling of being against him like this, like our bodies have been carved into each other to fit perfectly. No, Clara, stop thinking such ridiculous things. I feel my muscles start to tense again.

“Relax, little fox. Take a deep breath. I will never hurt you.” My back is pressed against his chest and his voice is moving through me.

I close my eyes. I’m so confused.

I would never have expected such tenderness from a man like Alexei.

He is the chaos. The wild one. The irresponsible, reckless Dubrov. He is ruthless and cold, and he takes what he wants. He isn’t soft like this. I don’t know this side of him, and I can’t seem to accept it.

I take another deep breath and suddenly realize how tired I am. Maybe it was all the adrenaline, and running, and trying to escape being freakingkidnapped. All that anger has drained me, too. My body seems to go limp in his arms as I just give up for a moment.

“Are you ok now?” he whispers against my ear.

I don’t reply.

I can’t.

I can’t speak to him right now because the way he is treating me is so confusing. One minute, I want to hate him for kidnapping me, and now, despite every neuron in my brain firing a thousand warnings, all I want to do is lie in his arms like this, and for some reason, it feels like the safest place in the entire world.

Which I know is ridiculous.

This is Alexei Dubrov.

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