Page 51 of The Bratva's Knocked-Up Bride

Before I can think any deeper, I hear a loud bang outside, followed by the sound of footsteps.

“Riley, did you hear that?” I whisper, my heart racing.

No answer.

Fear grips my chest as I walk out of the stall, poking my head out first towards the door. “Riley!” I try again, this time slightly louder, but to no avail.

Pocketing the positive test, I dare to venture forward. It’s fine, I tell myself. I’m overreacting. Some poor employee probably knocked over one of the carts, and Riley’s waiting for me outside the door, perfectly fine. Nobody is out to hurt us. And the Vultures know better than to try to come after us.

I open the door, looking out. Riley is standing in front of me, waiting, and my body immediately relaxes. “There you are—” I begin, but I don’t finish my sentence when suddenly, something catches in my peripheral. I turn to see a group of men emerge from the shadows, their presence instantly sending alarms ringing in my head.

Before I can react, one of them lunges at me, grabbing my arm with a vice-like grip. I push Riley behind me instinctively, trying to shield her, but it’s too late. Panic surges through me as I fight back, shoving my elbow into the guy’s gut, but he doesn’t budge.

“Run!” I scream at Riley, but the words barely leave my lips before they grab her, too, pulling us apart

“No! Let her go!” I shout, my voice filled with desperation as I’m dragged away.

Riley’s cries echo in my ears as they push us out of the store and outside. I scream at the top of my lungs, and so does Riley, our attempts to no avail as they shove us into a vehicle. I struggle, thrashing against them, but they’re too strong. Fear floods my mind, drowning out rational thought as I’m thrown into the backseat, bound and helpless.

“What do you want?” I demand, forcing the words through gritted teeth, my heart pounding.

“Relax, sweetheart. You’ll find out soon enough,” one of the men taunts, a smirk plastered across his face.

As they drive off, I can only think about how foolish I was to think I could sneak out without consequences. Roman will be furious when he finds out.

I’m sorry, I think to myself as if I’m speaking to him.I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

Time becomes an abstract concept in the confines of the vehicle. My thoughts swirl—thoughts of Riley, Roman, and the danger surrounding us. I’m terrified, and it’s not just for myself.

Finally, what feels like hours later, the car comes to a stop, and they pull me out into the damp, chilly air. My heart races as I scan the area—a dark, decrepit building looms before me, the scent of decay heavy in the air. My stomach churns at the thought of what awaits us inside.

“Welcome to your new home, ladies,” one of the men sneers as they drag me through the entrance. The interior is dimly lit and oppressive.

I can barely breathe as the walls seem to close in around me. They lead me deeper into the building, the atmosphere thick with tension and unspoken threats. Just as I’m trying to gather my thoughts, I spot Riley a few feet away.

“Riley!” I call out, relief flooding me at the sight of her. We’re together, at least.

“We’re going to be okay,” she whispers, but I can hear the tremor in her voice.

I cling to that reassurance as the men shove us into a small, grimy room, locking the door behind them. The panic rising in my chest feels suffocating. I can’t help but rememberwhy I snuck out in the first place, recall the plus sign on the pregnancy test.

I’m pregnant.

God, I’m really pregnant.

My heart sinks at the realization. I can’t let this stress affect the baby or whatever might be growing inside me. I had hoped to share that joy with Roman about it soon, but now I’m trapped in a nightmare, unsure when I’ll get out—ifI get out.

“I don’t know how long we’ll be here,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “But we’re going to get out of this.”

“Of course we will,” Riley replies, her determination shining through the fear.

But just as I feel a flicker of hope, the door creaks open, and the same sleazy guy from before steps back in, a sick grin on his face. I remember his name—Luther. One of the men who took Riley originally and the one Roman punched in the Milovs’ meeting with the Vultures. “Time to have a little chat, ladies.” He says.

The way he leans against the doorframe makes my skin crawl. “Your husband is going to be desperate to find you,” he continues, his voice oozing malice. “And we have a few ideas on how to make him cooperate.”

My breath hitches in my throat as he leans closer, and I steel myself. I won’t let them see how scared I am. My heart races, but I force myself to stay calm, to think of Roman and our unborn baby. I won’t let them hurt us.

As the man starts outlining scenarios that make my skin crawl, I realize I have to fight back. I can’t let this situation control me. My fingers tremble against the ropes binding me,but I gather my strength and take a deep breath, trying to channel the courage I know Roman would want me to have.

---