Page 22 of Pregnant Bratva Virgin

“No. I can assure you that’s not what I’m doing, Ms. Wilson. And no, I didn’t think I was going to see you tonight, but I’m sure glad you’re here.” His eyes take a downward glance at my body scanning from head to toe. “You look beautiful.”

“Shut up,” I whisper, backing up, tears springing in my eyes. He’s been donating for years. To Golden Hearts.

How did I miss it again?

Chapter Twelve - Ryurik

I didn’t know she was going to be here, but as I said directly to her, I’m glad she is, and her electric blue dress does all the right things for her curves, clinging to her like a beautiful glove. Her dark curls were close enough to my hand to rake my fingers through her locks like I wanted to, but I forced myself to drop my hand in my pocket, so I didn’t.

Part of me wanted to be mad at her for being on the wrong side of the law, but I couldn’t be. She’s touched part of my being in a way I’m not familiar with, and I want to find out what it is about her that’s so special.

Emily Wilson. You’re in trouble.I watch her sashay away from me to the stage as patrons come through the door. I meet and greet Chicago’s high society, following through with all the pleasantries, and with every hand I touch, I realize I know most of their forbidden secrets and lust-filled activities. In fact, I fuel them at times. After it’s all said and done, I keep my eyes following Emily. She’s hanging around the stage, and I assume she’s going to be helping there for the duration of the night.

“How many people are at this event, Viktor?” I ask as we’re seated at one of the tables of ten at the front of the room.

“I want to say at least a thousand. Why?”

“Wondering, that’s all. What’s the biggest donation other than mine?” My ego might be getting in the way, but I want the upper hand tonight. Ms. Wilson isn’t completely off track with me wanting to be portrayed in a certain way to the public. Yes. I want to keep my image clean enough for people to question any pesky murder charges, but two things can be true in the same breath. The Bratva does pick organizations to support.

“Around four million so far. And that was not a single person. It came from the mayor’s office.”

Smirking, I sip my champagne, wondering what table Emily’s sitting at, my obsession with her growing. I let my eyes go walking. She’s not going to be hard to spot, but from what I see, she’s not getting the chance to enjoy the event. A flash of blue catches my eye from behind the curtain of the stage, and my curiosity is temporarily satisfied.

“Good. This will help,” I tell him as Viktor winks.

“It will. And I think you might have some new admirers for the night. Three o’clock.” I assume he’s talking about women, but my eyes keep gravitating to the stage and Emily. Frowning, I’m close enough to see her taking off one of her pointy-toed slingbacks and rubbing her foot.

Wrong shoes.Right dress.I want to do something, but one of the guests at the table wrenches me into a bullshit conversation. “Ryurik, I’ve heard on the grapevine you’re considering moving into the real estate game. Is that right?”

I smile politely wishing the man would shut up so I can check on Emily. “No. Not exactly, and if I am it’s because I’m studying the market for a nightclub or bar,” I correct. The part he doesn’t need to know is the “bar” will be a front for drug distribution.

“Ah, makes sense. I can put you in touch with my real estate agent. He’s one of the main agents for the Magnificent Mile. He’s a sure bet.”

You ignorant fool. If I want a building, I don’t buy it. I take it.

“Not necessary. I’m fine. I have an excellent real estate broker. Thank you. What business did you say you were in?” I ask, humoring the clown as I look at the stage and theproceedings starting for the auction. Several easels are being set up, and I watch Emily hobbles onto stage setting them up one by one. It’s likely the event is going to start with auctioning off expensive artworks. The auctioneer approaches the small podium, stepping up onto it with a gavel in hand as I wipe my mouth with my napkin.

“I’m a hedge fund manager.” He hands me a plain white business card with a car salesman smile. Obviously, the fucker doesn’t know I’m a Bratva underboss and don’t need his advice. He probably needs mine at the end of the day. I share a knowing look with Viktor, whose deadpan glare at the man expresses my same internal sentiments.

“Good to know. I’ll keep this if I ever need to investigate investments.” I smile, dropping the card into the small pocket inside my suit jacket, the idiot looking proud of himself as if he’s helped me out. When the donation announcements occur later in the night, he’s probably going to hide under the table.

Studying Emily’s movements, I watch her grimace, wanting to bend down to her ankle to soothe the pain, and when I take a closer look, I can see the slight swelling and bruising around her ankle. The shoes are way too tight and narrow for her.

Leaning over to Viktor, I make a request. “I want you to get Emily some new shoes. Find out what size shoes she wears and give them to her. Move quick,” I command as Viktor nods, heading off from the table. I don’t want her to stumble around the stage with her feet hurting. She looks so pretty, and that innocence that initially had me fooled is shining through as I watch her on stage, adding artworks one by one as the auctioneer explains the process.

“Good evening, folks. Thanks for joining us on this wonderful night for an even more wonderful cause.” Applauserings out through the ballroom as the lights dim on stage and the lights underneath the easels on stage highlight each painting.

Emily struggles on and a twinge pings in my chest as I watch on in silence. Hang on. I’m going to bring you relief, even though you brought me grief. Conducting a time check, I watch as the minutes tick by until I see Viktor from behind the curtain whispering to Emily, relief washing over her face.

Good. He did as I asked. Smiling, I’m appalled by my actions. I want to help her, and I want to know why she’s here. My hunch is she’s been directly affected somehow, and I’m going to find out how.

Viktor slides back into his seat, right on time for the start of the auction, grinning from ear to ear, his reaction bringing on a spontaneous bout of jealousy I’m not ready for.

“What did she say to you?” I hiss under my breath in an accusatory tone as the rest of the table participates in the art auction, the bidding underway.

“Ah, she claimed I was a lifesaver, and she took the other shoes off. They fit perfectly. A wedge heel. I almost thought she was going to give me a hug.” He chuckles and I watch his eyes divert to Emily, the same starry-eyed look in his eyes that I experienced when I first saw her in the club.

“You were only supposed to give her the shoes, not fucking flirt with her,” I shoot at him with a dirty glare. I don’t want another man admiring or looking her way. “You should have told her it was me who organized the shoes,” I add, drawing a territorial line in the sand.

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