Page 42 of The Bratva's Knocked-Up Bride

Gwen took a deep breath, her eyes glinting with curiosity and mischief. As she moved to the bed, I could see her confidence returning. The Gwen I know promptly returns. She was strong, resilient, and ready to face whatever came next.

I wanted to show her how much she meant to me, to let her know that she was not just a pawn in this dangerous game we were playing. She was my partner now, my confidante, and I was determined to protect her—no matter the cost.

And then I kissed her again, more deeply this time, feeling her body respond to mine as we lost ourselves in the moment. My hands swim across her back, making quick work of the zipper, then swiftly peel off the dress I’ve been dying to rip off her since the moment I saw her walk down the stairs in it.

Chapter 15 - Gwen

I wake up before the sun fully rises, the soft light filtering through the curtains and casting a gentle glow in the bedroom. I lie still for a moment, letting my eyes adjust, and then I turn my head to look at Roman. He sprawls on his back, one arm draped over his eyes, the other tucked under his head. He looks peaceful, almost vulnerable, and my heart tugs at the sight.

A pang of guilt washes over me as I recall the chaos of last night. My reaction had been harsh—attacking him with words instead of trusting him. Roman had given me no reason to doubt him, yet fear had overwhelmed me, clouding my judgment. When he finally shared his plan in that low, threatening voice, relief washed over me, mixed with regret. I had jumped him in the heat of the moment and spent the rest of the night trying to make amends.

I hate how he’s kept me in the dark about things, no matter how much it always works out in our favor. I trust him, but I can’t help but sometimes feel as if he doesn’t quite trust me.

My emerald eyes watch him closely, drinking in every inch of and admiring his handsome features. The way his dark hair falls across his forehead, the strong lines of his cheekbones and jaw, the way his lips felt against mine. Somewhere along this tumultuous journey, I’ve caught feelings for the man who saved my life and thrust me into a marriage I didn’t want—yet here we are, building something unexpected together.

Shaking myself from my thoughts, I slip out of bed, careful not to wake him. The remnants of our passionate night linger in the air, our clothes still discarded across the carpet, but I need to focus.

I head downstairs, deciding to cook him breakfast. The kitchen feels warm and inviting as I rummage through the fridge, gathering ingredients for a simple meal. I pour my heart into making it, hoping that a delicious meal of eggs, turkey bacon, and toast will express my gratitude for his support and understanding and also act as an apology for blowing up on him last night.

Once breakfast is ready, I set the table outside on the balcony, where we can enjoy the crisp morning air and the view of the city waking up. The sun begins to rise, casting golden hues across the horizon, and it feels like a fresh start. It’s still an alien feeling to me living here, and I'm amazed at how oddly comfortable I’ve made myself in the house of someone who was a total stranger not even a month ago.

My heart flutters when Roman finally wanders downstairs, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Good morning,” he says, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he takes in the spread. “What’s all this?”

“Breakfast,” I reply, trying to suppress the blush creeping up my cheeks. “I thought I’d treat you after… well, everything.”

“You spoil me.” He chuckles, and the sound sends warmth rushing through me.

As we settle at the table, I feel a sense of ease between us. We eat, sharing light banter, and I can’t help but feel grateful for this moment of normalcy amidst the chaos surrounding us.

“So, what’s next?” I ask, curiosity piquing as I set my fork down, my eyes fixed on him.

He leans back in his chair, the confident glint in his eyes returning. “We need to keep monitoring their comings and goings. We can’t let the Vultures realize we’ve placed a tracking device on their vehicle. We need to act fast.”

My heart races at the thought of the impending danger, but I nod, trusting his plan. “What about Riley? You heard what that man said last night. How do we know if they are really keeping her safe?”

“Victor got in contact with them last night to… address what occurred at the meeting. They say they are, that’s she’s perfectly untouched,” he replies, his tone turning serious. “But we can’t take any chances. I won’t let anything happen to her, Gwen. I can’t promise that enough.”

A lump forms in my throat at his unwavering determination. “Thank you for doing this,” I whisper, feeling a wave of emotion. “And I’m sorry for how I reacted last night. I should’ve trusted you.”

He reaches across the table, his hand enveloping mine, sending a jolt of connection through me. “I like your wild side, but I’d always prefer your trust. Though,” he adds with a teasing smirk, “I wouldn’t mind receiving more apologies if they’re going to be as good as those last night.”

Heat floods my cheeks, and I laugh softly, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”

“Only for you,” he shoots back, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

***

A week later, I find myself in the same kitchen, but the atmosphere is charged with urgency. Roman has called a small meeting with his siblings, and they gather around the table, discussing strategies for retrieving Riley. I sit quietly, absorbing the discussions around me, a mixture of hope and worry swirling inside.

“Luka’s coming back soon, so we need to move fast,” Boris warns, his tone serious as he looks at Roman. “We can’t let them gain the upper hand.”

Roman exudes confidence, and despite my worries, it comforts me to see him so assured. “We’ll get this done,” he replies, his gaze steady. “There are two possible locations we need to hit at the same time to ensure we don’t lose her.”

Ideas are tossed around the table, each sibling contributing their thoughts. I listen intently, noticing how their differing perspectives reflect their personalities. Victor is the darkest of the bunch, bringing the grimmest suggestions to the table. Anton is more aggressive as he adds his two cents, which comes off as wildly impulsive to the group. Anya is reasonable, perhaps too much so, talking logistics but purposefully avoiding any and all potential bloodshed. Boris doesn’t talk as much, just soaking up all the words tossed about. Roman seems to be the perfect mix of them all, sharing ideas that are cautious but don’t shy away from violence. The discussion is lively and filled with tension and determination. Finally, after some back and forth, they reach a consensus on the plan.

They’ve decided on an ambush.

With Riley's location now known, the siblings all plan to gather up all of their available men and break in, guns blazing, taking as many men as they can out, grabbing Riley, and getting away. The plan both excites and terrifies me. It’s a quick, useful method of getting my best friend back, especially sooner rather than later. But the violence, the fact that the possibility of losing one of ours is in the air… it scares me.

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