Page 49 of Forced Pregnant Bride

Enzo was laughing, saying something in Italian to some of his men who had gathered to watch the show. Jay pinned his eyes on me, but I was too angry and heartbroken to look at him.

I pressed my palms against my lap, willing myself to hold it together, but the ache in my heart didn’t subside. It felt raw, exposed, and utterly fragile, like if I let myself cry, I’d never stop.

The light overhead flickered, and I stared blankly at the door, hoping and wishing but knowing deep down that it was a foolish hope. Timur wasn’t coming.

I exhaled sharply, bitter at my own naivety. My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my dress, trying to distract myself, but the hollowness lingered. I closed my eyes momentarily, replaying our last conversation in my head, dissecting every word and glance.

Then, a sharp creak broke the stillness. Enzo stopped talking, and at the same time, my eyes snapped open just as the door swung wide, slamming against the wall with enough force to make me jump.

“Timur?”

There he stood.

And I burst out in tears like a baby.

His grin was wide and dangerous, nothing at all like the sweet ones he gave me in the morning or pressed against my cheeks at night. His presence filled the room like it always did—bold, confident, entirely him—and the grin on his face made the hairs rise on the back of my neck.

My heart stuttered in my chest, caught between disbelief and relief. For a second, I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, as his gaze locked onto mine with a wicked glint.

“Already mourning me,Pchelka? Yellow’s not the best color for that.”

He was talking to me, teasing, and while this was most certainly the wrong place and time for his weird PDA, I felt my heart flutter in the midst of the chaos—because the man standing by that door, that mysteriously rose from the dead, was going to reign chaos.

In that minute, nothing mattered more than him, knowing I could hold him again, kiss him again, even hear his grumpy remarks again.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but the heaviness in my chest lifted just enough for me to breathe again. He stopped just short of me, leaning down so we were eye to eye. Then he brushed the tears from my eyes and sucked them off his thumb. “Don’t look so heartbroken, Serena. I’m here now.”

And in that moment, I didn’t care about the why or the how.

He was here, and that was enough.

Chapter 20 – Timur

I got to the house just as the last sliver of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon, casting long shadows across the cracked driveway. When our last search at the abandoned warehouse proved abortive, it was my best guess that Enzo had stuffed her in another one of his filthy hideouts. The bastard wasn’t going to risk shelving her in his house. That would have been too easy. And my guess was right.

The place smelled damp and reeked of desperation.

My fists clenched at the thought of Serena in there—alone, scared, in his hands. It made my blood boil. I gave a sharp nod to my men, and we moved in, guns drawn, every step deliberate and quiet.

When Arlo told me the locals around said she’d followed after someone, my first suspect was her brother. Serena cared about him more than her own life; it made sense that he would be the only reason she’d have been that reckless, even with child.

But I knew he wasn’t smart enough to pull off such a plan alone. He’d have needed the resources to do it, and who better than the family that enjoyed sticking their noses in other people’s fucking businesses?

The Colombos.

Inside, the air was heavy with tension. The confined room where Serena was kept wasn’t hard to find; male laughter echoed off the walls, and I wasn’t foolish enough to charge in blindly. Enzo was here, and he wouldn’t make this easy.

As we turned the corner, his men came into view—ten heavily armed and strategically positioned. Enzo himself stood in the center of the room, his face twisted in shock; his expression quickly morphed into that smug grin I’d been itching to wipe off.

Serena was behind him, lying on a blanket. Her face was pale, her yellow dress wrinkled, and her hair was all over the place. When she saw me, she immediately burst into tears.

The thought that they’d hurt her made my blood boil, and standing there, I made a silent promise to myself to make every one of those fuckers pay.

“Already mourning me,Pchelka? Yellow’s not the best color for that.”

She cried harder, wiping the back of her hand over her red cheek and puffy eyes. Ignoring everyone else in the room, I walked up to her, drowned in sudden relief that I could have her again in my arms.

With a flick, I wiped off the tears from her eyes and sucked them off my thumb. “Don’t look so heartbroken, Serena. I’m here now.”

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