Page 14 of Pregnant By the Bratva

When we reach the cell, the door is ajar, and I push it open fully, bracing myself for whatever we might find. The scene that greets us is not what I expected.

Sarah stands in the middle of the room, her eyes wide with shock, her body trembling. Blood pools around her feet, staining the concrete floor a dark, viscous red. Our newest guard lies at her feet, his lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling, a stab wound in his chest still leaking blood. The knife in Sarah’s hand is slick with it, her grip loose as if she’s barely holding on.

Maxim steps forward, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the sight. “He was new,” he mutters, more to himself than to me, as he crouches down to inspect the body. His gaze catches on the man’s chest, where the familiar snake tattoo is visible through the torn fabric of his shirt.

I understand immediately. The guard wasn’t just new—he was a plant, a mole sent by Kace to tie up loose ends. He was here to silence Sarah before she could become a liability. And she killed him.

I approach Sarah slowly, my eyes never leaving her face. She’s pale, her expression one of utter disbelief, as if she can’t quite process what she’s done. Her hand shakes as she drops the knife, the clatter of metal on concrete echoing through the room.

“I… I killed him,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, as if speaking the words out loud will make them real. Tears well up in her eyes, and she looks at me as if searching for some kind of absolution, some reassurance that what she’s done was necessary, even justified.

I don’t offer comfort. Instead, I grin, an amused satisfaction curling through me as I see this new side of her. Fierce, capable of violence when pushed to the edge. She’s more than just a hacker, more than a pawn in someone else’s game. She’s a survivor, and that’s something I can work with.

“It’ll get easier,” I say quietly, stepping closer until I’m standing right in front of her. Her eyes are fixed on the bloodstain spreading across the floor, but I tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “The first kill always hits hard, but it’s part of the life you’ve chosen.”

She doesn’t respond, but I can see the war raging in her eyes, the battle between the person she thought she was and the reality of what she’s just done. She’s been in the Mafia for years, yes, but this is different. This is personal, and it’s a line she’s never crossed before.

“It’ll make you stronger,” I continue, my voice steady and calm. “You’ve proven you can do what it takes to survive. Now you need to own it.”

She blinks, a tear spilling down her cheek, but she doesn’t pull away from my grip. There’s a part of her that’s listening, that’s trying to make sense of this new world she’s stepped into. As I look into her eyes, I see the potential for something more—a willingness to adapt, to become something more dangerous than she already is.

Maxim stands, wiping the blood from his hands with a look of distaste. “What do you want to do with her now, Ivan?”

I don’t take my eyes off Sarah as I respond, my tone leaving no room for doubt. “We keep her. She’s valuable.”

Sarah’s breath hitches, but she doesn’t argue. She’s still processing, still trying to reconcile what she’s done with who she is. I can see the strength in her, the determination that will eventually win out over the fear.

I keep my eyes locked on Sarah as she stands there, trembling and on the verge of breaking down. The blood on thefloor has started to congeal, its dark red color seeping into the cracks of the concrete. The lifeless man, his face twisted in the final moments of pain and betrayal, lies at her feet. She’s still trying to process it all, still fighting against the reality of what she’s done.

This world doesn’t give room for hesitation or weakness, and I’m not about to let her wallow in denial.

“Kace gave up on you,” I say, my voice cold and unforgiving. “The man you were so loyal to, the man you thought would protect you—he sent that man to kill you. You were a loose end, Sarah. A liability.” I tighten my grip on her wrist, dragging her closer to the body on the floor. She resists, trying to pull away, but I don’t let her. She needs to see this, needs to understand the dark reality she’s been thrown into. “Look at him,” I command, my voice harsh, unyielding. “This is the truth of our world. You’re either useful, or you’re dead.”

Her eyes widen, filling with fresh tears as she stares at the body, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She tries to shut her eyes, tries to block out the sight of the man she killed, but I won’t let her. “Don’t look away,” I snap, pulling her closer, forcing her to confront what she’s done. “You need to understand, Sarah. This is what happens when you’re no longer valuable. Kace knew that, and so do I. If you want to survive, you’d better figure out how to stay useful.”

Her sobs break through, and I can feel the tension in her body, the overwhelming fear and despair that’s tearing her apart. Her eyes squeeze shut as the tears spill over, running down her cheeks in hot, salty streams. I realize then that I’m gripping her wrist too tightly, the fragile bones of her arm straining against my hold. I release her suddenly, the mark of my fingers already beginning to darken on her pale skin.

She stumbles back, cradling her wrist against her chest, her breath coming in shallow, hiccupping gasps. I can see the red imprint of my fingers on her skin, a physical reminder of the power I hold over her. There’s no satisfaction in it, only the cold, relentless march of necessity.

“Take her out of here,” I order, my voice hard as I turn to the men standing by. “She won’t be kept in this cell anymore.”

The men move quickly, stepping forward to seize Sarah by the arms. She struggles weakly, her fear escalating as she realizes she’s being taken somewhere new, somewhere unknown.

“Where are you taking me?” she cries out, her voice laced with panic. “What are you going to do to me?”

Her pleas fall on deaf ears. The men drag her from the room, her voice fading as she’s pulled down the hallway, the sound of her footsteps echoing against the concrete. I watch her go, my expression unreadable. This is what she needs to learn—what she needs to understand if she’s going to be of any use to me. In our world, there’s no room for sentimentality or weakness. Only survival.

When the room falls silent again, I turn to Maxim, who’s been watching the scene with a guarded expression. He’s smart enough to know not to intervene, but I can see the questions in his eyes, the flicker of doubt that comes with the realization of just how deep the betrayal runs.

“That man was a traitor,” I say, nodding toward the body on the floor. “Sent by Kace to clean up his mess. We need to be more careful with who we recruit. If there’s one rat, there could be more.”

Maxim nods, his face hardening with the same resolve that I feel. “I’ll take care of it,” he says, his voice grim. “We’ll go through the ranks, vet everyone again. No one gets in without us knowing exactly who they are and where their loyalties lie.”

“Good,” I reply, my tone decisive. “We can’t afford any more mistakes. Not with the Preston family watching our every move.”

Maxim glances at the body, then back at me. “Sarah?”

“She’ll come around,” I say, my voice calm, though the memory of her tear-streaked face lingers in my mind. “She’s valuable, but only if she learns quickly. We need to break her down so we can build her back up—stronger, more useful.”

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