Page 50 of The Bratva's Knocked-Up Bride

“Just be honest. If she feels your love, it’ll go a long way,” he advises, a rare softness in his tone.

I’m about to respond when my phone buzzes again, the vibration jolting me out of the moment. I glance at the screen, and my stomach drops. It’s my guards.

“Damn it,” I mutter, swiping to answer. “What’s going on?”

“Roman, we’ve got a situation. Your wife and her friend are nowhere to be seen. We checked the cameras—they snuck out.”

“What? Why would she ever do that?” Panic rises in my throat, then anger quickly takes over. “How the fuck did you guys let them out of her sight? You’re supposed to keep a close eye on them!”

“Sir, we don’t know. We’re trying to track their last known location.”

I hang up, my heart pounding. What the hell was she thinking? I immediately call Gwen, but it goes straight to voicemail. My chest tightens with anxiety, and I try again, but still no answer.

“Boris,” I snap, urgency creeping into my voice. “Call Anya. Ask if she knows anything.”

He nods, grabbing his phone as I continue calling Gwen, growing more frantic with each unanswered ring.

“Nothing yet,” he says after a few moments. “But we’ll figure this out.”

Just as I’m about to call again, my phone buzzes with a new message. I glance down, my heart plummeting at the sight of the sender.

It’s from the Vultures.

The image loads, and I feel the air leave my lungs. It’s a photo of Gwen tied up, a look of fear in her eyes.

“Fuck!” I roar, rage boiling over as the reality of the situation crashes down on me.

“Roman?” Boris asks, concern etched across his face.

I can barely breathe now, my mind racing with thoughts of what I need to do next. Anger seizes every inch of my frame, threatening to burst at any moment. But I need to keep a clear head. I have to. Imust. If not for myself, for her.

I turn to face Boris. “They have her. I need to get her back.”

The color drains from Boris’ face temporarily before his tough mask returns. “Let’s plan this out. We need to act fast.”

“Fast isn’t enough,” I snarl, fists clenching at my sides. “They’re going to pay for this.”

I clench my jaw, adrenaline surging through me.

They’ve made a grave mistake.

I refuse to lose Gwen, not after everything we’ve fought for.

Chapter 19 - Gwen

I’mfuckingpregnant.

Tears begin to stream down my face as I stare down at the positive test. Another one rests on the floor by my feet with the same result; the shock of seeing the first result sent me straight into denial, and I took another, insisting it must have been wrong.

But it wasn’t.

I am fucking….Pregnant.

Fear seizes my lungs, closing up my throat and making it difficult to breathe as the tears flow more rapidly, pattering against the floor silently. How could this happen? How could I be so irresponsible? Roman and I have only had sex a handful of times so far, and I’ve fallen pregnant already.

What does this mean for me? For us? For our future? I can’t imagine someone like Roman, who has lived a life of danger his entire life, would want a child. At least not right now, if anything. We’ve barely had Riley back and gotten the Vultures off our trail, and I’m pregnant with his child.

I wrack my mind, a whirlwind of thoughts swarming my head, struggling as I think of what I’m going to say. Should I sound disappointed? Scared? Casual? Excited? I wonder how he will react. Will he be angry? Disappointed? Ecstatic? Will he want to keep it or kick me to the curb?

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