Page 119 of Claim

The phone vibrates in my hand, a familiar buzz that makes my heart race. I answer on the first ring, and my anger starts to melt away as I hear his deep Russian accent through the speaker.

“Ana, baby. Are you okay?”

The sound of a woman’s laughter, giggling in the background, acts as a trigger, and my rage erupts, returning with a vengeance.

“Where are you, Miki?” I say through gritted teeth.

“I just had to take Zoya to get some shopping for G. I won’t be long.”

My vision blurs.

Her.

Whatever Zoya needs, she gets. I don’t trust her. And I don’t fucking like her one bit. I see the way she looks at my man. The way she tries to get her claws in and hit his weakness of caring for his little sister.

What if she is the one he really wanted all this time? I was never meant to happen. They’ve known each other long before I’ve been around. Maybe this is just some fucked up game that they’re playing?

“Ana? Are you okay? Talk to me.”

Tears roll down my face. Am I destined to live as the other woman? Even in what would be our family home? Wondering if it really is me he wants. Always having that bitch making orders.

I suck in a breath.

No. I want more out of life and love. I deserve more.

“Just come home. We need to talk.”

I cut the call before he can reply and sit on the edge of the bed, placing the little white stick on my lap.

“Well, maybe it will just be me and you, baby,” I whisper to my flat stomach.

How the hell is this even possible?

I let the tears fall. I love this man. Truly and deeply. But I can’t live without knowing if I own his whole heart. Even if the tiniest part belongs to Zoya, that isn’t enough.

No woman should feel like they are in competition with another for a man’s heart. I won’t allow that to happen to me. Even if it will kill me to walk away. I will put myself first and figure out the rest later.

I blow on the steam off my coffee, the heat warming my face, as the front door slams shut with a resounding thud.

“Iskorka.” His voice carries through the mansion.

“In here,” I reply quietly.

I turn and rest my ass on the counter, holding the mug in front of my face with two hands.

He stops opposite me, studying me. I raise my brows at him. I am Anastasia. I am a bad bitch. And I will either get what I want or I’ll hold my head up and walk away.

“You’ve been crying?” His brows furrow as he steps closer.

I hold up my hand to stop him from coming any closer and he tilts his head to the side.

“Where isshe?”I ask, flicking my eyes towards the front door.

“Who? Zoya? I told her to go straight to her house.”

Of course. Maybe it’s so she can hide the freshly fucked look he gave her?

“What’s this about, baby?”

---