Page 58 of Forced By the Bratva Beast

“Husband.” Andrei cups my face as I turn into him, his mouth crushing mine in a passionate rush of emotions.

“Damn. I love you, Sophia. This time I mean it,” he mumbles, the fire in his kiss igniting me. Panting from ourmake-out session, Andrei drags me onto his lap. “Come on. Let me show you how much I love you.” He strips me of my top, dropping sweet kisses to my collarbone. Placing a hand on his chest, I shake my head.

“No! No! We can’t.” I try to take back my leg and move off him, but he drags it back, smashing kisses into the side of my neck.

“Why not?” he growls, smacking my ass.

“I just had a baby, Andrei. You’re going to wake her! You can wait.”

“No, I can’t wait. Do I have to?” he whines, his dark, tousled locks hanging forward, the temptation almost as great. Kissing him tenderly on the lips, I warn him with my eyes.

“Yes. You have to wait. We have our whole lives together,” I remind him, a new level of calm washing over me now that we’ve cleared up our feelings for each other.

“Yes, we do.” He scoffs, a little annoyed, but smiling as he flicks on the TV. “I guess I can wait.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight – Andrei

Shit. I’ve got to hurry otherwise I’m going to be late, and this isn’t something I can miss. “Makar, I can’t stay for the chit-chat. I’m going to meet you there. I’m going to let you wrap this up,” I tell him tersely, his face confused.

“But, Boss—” Makar objects, my eyes flickering in annoyance at him.

“But nothing. You know what the deal-breakers are, close it, and then you need to be across the city in the next twenty minutes. Precautions,” I add in the break of a long-winded and unnecessary meeting.

“Alright. Alright. Done. Be there when I can.”

Slapping him on the back, I breeze out the door into the elevator, perspiration on my forehead. I can’t be late. I let the fresh Chicago wind hit me as I walk out from our Bratva headquarters in Chicago and straight into the idling black town car.

“Daddy, daddy! Are we going to see Mommy?” Anya asks, climbing from our nanny’s lap over to mine. Stroking her strawberry blonde hair, she jumps into my lap, but I set her down beside me, buckling up her seat belt as the driver stares in the rear-view mirror expectantly.

“Drive fast. We’re already late, and that’s my fault. If you know a back way, use it,” I direct, exhaling loudly. It’s been three and half years since the birth of Anya, and she’s only becoming more of a little heartbreaker every day.

She inherited Sophia’s ginger hair for the most part—the strawberry blonde part must have come from further back in the Utkin bloodline. Some of us have blond hair, and others of have jet-black hair. She’s long and looking to be lanky, and with the bright dazzling emerald eyes, she could probably model. I’ve spent many nights arguing with Sophia that no man can touch her, and she’s always laughed, thinking it to be a funny joke, but for me—I’m serious. If anyone were to harm her, I would do worse than pull their nailbeds apart like I did Ryan. No, I would cut their eyeballs out of their sockets and—

“Daddy, Daddy! We’re going to see Mommy!”

Pinching her cheeks lightly, she swats me away playfully, showing me her full row of teeth. “Oh yes we are. Do you know what Mommy’s doing today? I ask as the driver skirts around Chicago traffic finding the gaps to get us to the Chicago School of Law faster.

Anya shakes her long, straight hair wildly, leaning onto my chest. “Yes! She’s going to school like me. Except I go to school on the yellow bus. Mommy goes in a car.” Grinning at her, I tilt my head, making a seesaw with my hand.

“Close. You’ll see what she’s doing when we get there.” And get there we do, right on time as I take Anya’s hand and jog to the auditorium, looking for the signs for graduation. A woman with glasses and books smiles at us as we run through the hall, using the arrows as a guides.

“You’re going in the right direction. It’s okay they haven’t started yet, but they’re about to close the doors in the next two minutes.”

“Thank you,” I rush out as I follow the crowd leading into the auditorium, calming down and locating a good seat so I cansee Sophia. We end up in the second row and I strain to see where she is.

“There’s Mommy!” Anya calls out as I pick her up and she points to the stage. It must be a special radar that mothers have, because she turns as soon as she hears her daughter’s voice and waves to us both. Pride swells inside me seeing Sophia on stage in her cap and gown, ready to graduate law school. I didn’t want her to give up her hopes and dreams, but she assured me Anya was part of her dream in life. When she slept and during the breaks, Sophia studied.

Blowing her a kiss, we sit and wait as the door closes to the auditorium and the hall falls quiet as the dean addresses the crowd. “Thank you for coming today. You are all here because you have some connection to our latest round of law students on the stage. These students have now gained their wings. They are the next heroes of Chicago and beyond.”

The speeches continue and I grow impatient as I observe students one-by-one receiving their law degrees. Sophia reaches the podium soon enough, the degree given to her, and she ends up making a speech, given that she’s one of the top-scoring students. Wow. And this woman is all mine. She’s been through so much, and there she stands like the bright star of our family that she is.

Anya doesn’t know much other than Mommy received a piece of paper and is speaking on stage, but it’s much more than that, and I’m lucky she’s my wife.

Later, after all the congratulations, I meet her, giving her a big kiss. “Congratulations. I’m proud of you. You looked good in the spotlight,” I praise, but her face lights up the most when she’s Anya, and it’s one of the reasons I love her the most. Anya stretches out her arms, wrapping her limbs around her mother.

“Thank you. I’m so happy you’re here. Phew! Finally, I got the degree.”

“I knew you would, but I can hold Anya if you want to mingle a little. It’s your moment.”

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