Page 41 of Pregnant By the Bratva

What I see inside makes my blood run cold.

Leo is on top of Sarah, his body pinning her down on the floor, his hand gripping a gun pressed to her head. Her eyes are wide with fear, tears streaming down her face as she struggles beneath him, but she’s no match for his strength. The desperation in her eyes cuts through me like a knife.

Everything happens in a split second. The world narrows down to just this moment, just this one decision. I don’t hesitate. My gun is in my hand before I even think about it, the shot ringing out loud and clear, cutting through the air like a thunderclap. The bullet hits its mark, slamming into Leo’s side, the force of it throwing him off of Sarah and onto the floor beside her.

Blood pools on the floor, soaks into the stained carpet.

He doesn’t get up.

I rush forward, my heart hammering in my chest as I kick the gun away from his lifeless hand, my eyes immediately searching for any sign of injury on Sarah. She’s shaking, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she stares at Leo’s body, her hands trembling uncontrollably.

“Sarah,” I say, my voice softer now, but still laced with urgency as I drop to my knees beside her. “Sarah, look at me.”

Her eyes finally find mine, and the moment they do, the dam breaks. She bursts into tears, her whole body trembling as she collapses into my arms. I pull her close, holding her tightly against me, my hand cradling the back of her head as I try to shield her from the horror of what just happened.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, my voice rough with emotion as I press my lips to the top of her head. “You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Her sobs wrack her body, and I can feel the intensity of her fear, her relief, all of it crashing over her in waves. I hold her tighter, my own heart still racing, adrenaline still pumping through my veins. The anger that had been driving medissipates, replaced by a fierce protectiveness, a need to make sure she knows she’s safe.

“I’m here,” I murmur, my hand stroking her hair as I try to calm her down, my own voice wavering slightly despite my efforts to stay strong for her. “I’ve got you, Sarah. I’ve got you.”

She clings to me, her tears soaking into my shirt as she buries her face against my chest, her fingers clutching at me as if I’m the only thing keeping her grounded. Maybe I am. The thought of what could have happened—what almost happened—makes me sick to my stomach.

I glance over at Leo’s body, a cold sense of satisfaction settling in the pit of my stomach. He got what he deserved. He’ll never threaten Sarah again, never come between us, never hurt her the way he just tried to. Even as that thought settles, the sight of her, so vulnerable, so scared, brings a different kind of pain. One that I know will linger long after the adrenaline wears off.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice broken as she pulls back slightly to look up at me, her eyes filled with guilt and pain. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t,” I cut her off gently, my hand cupping her face, wiping away the tears that streak down her cheeks. “Don’t apologize, Sarah. None of this is your fault.”

She tries to speak again, but I shake my head, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “You’re safe,” I repeat, my voice firm. “That’s all that matters.”

She nods, her breath hitching as she tries to calm herself, her hands still clutching at me as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear ifshe lets go. I hold her close, refusing to let her go, refusing to let anything take her away from me again.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sarah

Two days have passed since that nightmare, but it feels like a lifetime. I lie in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, my body numb, my mind replaying the events over and over like a broken record. The betrayal from my mother, the terror of Leo’s attack, and the sickening finality of watching him die—all of it swirls in my head, leaving me feeling hollow and lifeless.

How did it all come to this? How did my life become such a twisted, tragic mess?

The weight of it presses down on me, making it hard to breathe. I thought I’d escaped my past, but it caught up with me, dragging me back into a darkness I thought I’d left behind. Now, all I can do is lie here, consumed by the wreckage of it all, unable to find a way out.

The door creaks open, and I don’t have to look to know it’s Ivan. His presence is something I’ve come to recognize instantly, a mix of strength and intensity that fills the room. He moves quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside me. I feel the mattress dip under his weight, but I don’t move, don’t acknowledge him. I’m too lost in my thoughts, too drained to do anything but exist in this moment.

Ivan doesn’t say anything at first. He just sits there, his hand resting gently on my arm, a steadying presence in the chaos of my mind. After a moment, he speaks, his voice low and calm. “It’s over, Sarah. You’re safe now.”

I hear the words, but they don’t quite register. Safe. The word feels foreign, almost meaningless. I’ve spent so long feelinganything but safe, and now, even with Leo gone, the fear and pain still cling to me like a second skin.

“I don’t feel safe,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, as if admitting it out loud makes it more real. “I feel… empty. Like everything inside me is broken.”

Ivan’s hand tightens slightly on my arm, a silent offering of comfort. “You’ve been through a lot,” he says, his tone softening in a way I’m not used to from him. “You’re stronger than you think, Sarah. You survived.”

I close my eyes, trying to find some solace in his words, but all I can see is my mother’s face, the desperation in her eyes as she betrayed me once again, and the sickening realization that Leo, the boy I once loved, had turned into a monster. “Why does everything have to end so tragically?” I ask, more to myself than to Ivan. “Why couldn’t it have been different?”

Ivan doesn’t have an answer for that. Maybe there isn’t one. Instead, he shifts slightly, his voice hardening as he continues. “We got your mother,” he says, the words cutting through the haze in my mind. “She won’t hurt you again. I want her dead, Sarah. After everything she’s done….”

The declaration hangs in the air, heavy and cold, but it doesn’t stir the anger I thought it might. Instead, it just deepens the hollowness inside me. My mother has caused me so much pain, so much suffering, but the thought of her dying… it doesn’t bring me any comfort. It just feels like another tragedy in a life filled with them.

---