Page 13 of Knocked Up By the Russian

As she nodded, Amy felt herself growing dizzy.Thiswasn't what she'd envisioned when she overheard Ivan on the phone with his brothers. Though, she probably should've known better considering most of them had gotten married in similar ways.

"We can't dismiss the threat. Something isn't right there. How the fuck do you even get a bullet engraved?" Ivan asked, not meeting her eyes.

"It's probably real silver," Kostya chipped in, brow furrowed as he studied it again. "Or at the very least, the gunpowder must have been removed beforehand. You'd have to be really fucking stupid to use heat on a real bullet."

Adrian nodded, reaching toward the bullet as Kostya put it down. "That would mean there was more planning. How many hours do you think it takes to make something like this?" He scratched his jaw just like Lev had, brow furrowed. "I'm not saying it's impossible, just that it's either something thatcould've been in the making for a little longer than we thought or—"

"Someone spent enough money to get it sorted," Ivan finished, eyes flashing furiously as he disputed his brother's words. "Which could be anyone in the Bratva, the cartel, or even the mafia. You know as well as I do that money can buy anything."

"Adrian, you and Kostya can find that out," Mikhail said gruffly as he waved his hand, glancing outside once more. "Ivan. I want you on wedding plans. Don't fucking call my wife to help you. You're not going to drag the rest of us into that shit."

Ivan rolled his eyes at the other men's sniggers, but Mikhail ignored them as he continued. "Word will be spread through the ranks that you're getting married—but make sure you send a few invitations out, too. Maybe that will give us a bit more time before the next package arrives."

Amy stared at him, her eyes wide. "The next package?"

Mikhail nodded, his face as grim as the rest of the men around her. "It's safe to assume there will be another one."

Exhaling a shaky breath, she dropped her gaze as she sat down on the couch, curling her arms around her knees. Zia settled in beside her, rubbing her back.

"Everything's going to be okay," Amy heard her murmur as she closed her eyes. She didn't even have the energy to admit what she really felt—that nothing felt okay anymore.I'm getting married, she thought numbly, stopping herself before she laughed. Her body felt weighed down by the weight of her thoughts.Planning a marriage?The idea was ridiculous. How was she supposed to tell her mother? The weight of that thought sent a fresh wave of dread crashing over her. It was all too much.

Amy squeezed her eyes shut until the world around her grew quiet, and she could give in to the sleep she desperately needed.

***

A few hours later, Amy woke up to find that everyone except for Ivan had left. Sitting up, she found herself wrapped in a thick woolen blanket. She leaned against the back of the couch and pulled it closer, smelling Ivan's cologne.

He probably used this last night,she thought as her eyes scanned the room. She didn't know why she expected him to leave her downstairs, but it was clear soon enough that he hadn't. Sitting where her feet had been, he slept with his head tipped back at an odd angle that left her feeling like he'd been looking at her when he fell asleep.

Impossible, she thought as she took the time to study his grumpy expression. His eyes were scrunched, jaw clenched, and brows furrowed.

I'm surprised he has any teeth left, she thought as his cheeks twitched. Her mouth curled with amusement as he let out a soft snore. Shadows played across his features, and she glanced over to where the TV was on but muted. Seeing the sports channel was unexpected, and she snorted before she could stop herself.

When she turned back to Ivan, she froze, her heart quickening at the sight of his open eyes. Without moving, he looked at her with an expression that almost seemed vulnerable—it couldn't have been, though. Right?

Voice husky, he reached toward where she'd curled up, then dropped his hand. Something... paper crinkled at thatmovement, and she saw the job offer stuck in the creases of the couch between them. Her brow furrowed as she wondered how it got stuck there, but the thought disappeared in the next moment when Ivan spoke, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Why were you planning to leave me?"

Amy blinked. Leavehim, not Eclipse. A strange feeling settled in her chest at his words, and she tugged the blanket tighter as she lay down again. She wouldn't touch that subject with a ten-foot pole.

Chapter 6 - Ivan

"Just pick one," Ivan demanded, standing across from Amy with four swatches of purple fabric in hand. This was his seventh, maybe eighth, attempt to engage her in the wedding planning process. But just like every other time, she didn't even glance his way before rejecting his offer.

"No."

Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair. If he'd thought living with Amy was challenging, it was nothing compared to planning a wedding with her. In fact, she was probably doing this on purpose to get him to stop. He pinched his nose, closing his eyes to distance himself from the mess of magazines and fabric swatches that cluttered the table. He had heard the term "Bridezilla" used before in wedding contexts, but could that apply when the bride refused to participate in any planning?

Probably not.

"Please?" He raised his eyebrows, adopting a puppy-like expression, hoping against hope that Adrian hadn’t bugged his office again. His family couldn’t know he’d reached this point—kneeling before his fiancée while pleading for her assistance in organizing their wedding. A wedding she didn't want, but still...

Amy glowered at him, her green eyes even more frigid than the cold shower he'd taken this morning in the downstairs bathroom. He'd been hard as a rock after he'd run up to grab clothes, stumbling into her—in nothing but a towel—looking through her suitcases.

Swallowing hard, Ivan flicked through the fabric swatches in an attempt to find his focus. It really wasn't going tohelp him get her on board with this if he kept acting like an idiot—it was hard not to, though.

Amy watched him stew with a stern expression on her face. Her wavy blonde hair was tied in that cute ponytail she wore right before a hair wash day, and she hadn’t worn anything other than pajamas since that night on the couch. Ivan would've been worried, but he was almost certain she was doing it to mess with him.

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