Page 15 of Forced Pregnant Bride

“Fuck! I almost had him,” Rafayel cursed, dropping his cards beside mine.

“My apologies, but this is important. Level one shit,” Arlo said, looking anything but remorseful for interrupting our moment.

I didn’t mind because I knew he had something—he always did.

He stopped in front of me, flashing his phone toward me as if I could see the screen. A sly grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Got updates on the Skye siblings.”

The Skye siblings.

Truly, level one shit.

“Good or bad?”

“Somewhere in between. They barely leave the house. They’re scared. Real scared.”

Satisfied, I approved the update with a nod. Of course, they were scared. They knew exactly what was coming and couldn’t run far enough. But Arlo wasn’t done.

“But that young one,” he continued, his eyes narrowing slightly, “Jayden.”

“The boy?”

“He’s got eyes of fire. They know we’ve been watching and are gonna try to run. I see it.”

I sat up straighter, grabbing the cards. “Then let them.”

He paused, and Rafayel raised a questioning brow in my direction. Brushing a piece of lint off, he inclined forward, tugging on the hem of his hoodie when his brows creased between his forehead. “Timur?”

I narrowed my eyes at him and glared at an eager Arlo, who pulled a chair closer, his smirk replaced by shock.

“What?”

“You’re willing to allow an escape?”

If this were any other day, I wouldn’t lash out at my brother for prying, but something about this moment and the subjects involved felt private—fucking personal.

“Well, it’s not any of your fucking business now, is it?”

Shaking his head like he couldn’t decipher the most complex code, he shrugged, folding his arm across his chest. “No, you’re not getting off that easy. I can’t remember the last time you showed kindness. What’s this about?”

Rising from the chair, I shoved the center table away with my feet. I fixed my hands in my pockets, staring out the window, my back turned to them. It was unnecessary for Rafayel to poke long when I knew exactly what the fuck this was about, the reason I was willing to let them escape.

The problem had blonde hair and blue eyes that, somehow, got stuck in my mind nights even after I’d shut the door behind me. The problem smelled like fucking vanilla. A challenge like this was new and annoying as shit, having to deal with the burning imprint of a woman on my mind.

That was why I wouldn’t bother if they tried to escape. Her disappearance would do better than having them around.

“I’m willing to bet this month’s paycheck that the reason’s name is Serena.”

My jaw flexed. Arlo wasn’t going to let it slide, and I wanted to put a literal dent in his confidence for fixing her name to the face. It made her more real than the dark fucking clouds flashing with purple lightning.

From the blurry reflection on the glass, I watched Arlo swing one leg over the other as he faced Raf, whose enthusiasm was all over the place.

“A woman.”

“Damn right, she is. Innocent blue eyes, confident…a baker, too. I didn’t taste the cake, but the aroma turned me on. Oh, and she’s sexy as hell. The boss seems to think so, too. He looked at her.”

“Shit, no way!” Rafa laughed. “Eye contact? How long?”

Arlo snorted. “Long enough to make me know he thought she was worthy. Can’t remember the last time he was seen with a woman, much lesssawa woman.”

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