Page 59 of Claimed Bratva Virgin

Shock. Anger. Confusion. Protectiveness. They clashed, vying for dominance, leaving me standing there, staring at her like the ground had been ripped out from under me.

I looked at her, truly looked at her. For the first time in what felt like forever, I saw her vulnerability, fear, and hope. And I realized that whatever else I felt, one thing was certain: If she was carrying my child, I would protect them both.

Even if it killed me.

Chapter 18 – Leonora

Rafayel didn’t say a word to me throughout the ride to his house.

Quietly, but with a brooding rage hanging over him, he dismissed his men patrolling indoors and asked one of the maids, Varya, to prepare dinner and take the rest of the weekend off. She had salt-and-pepper hair and wide, knowing eyes. I felt small under her curious scrutiny but had no opportunity for small talk.

Rafayel and I ascended to his study.

I sat on the chair across his polished desk, intentionally avoiding the leather couch and the memories that came with it.

He received a phone call, and from the one-sided conversation about taking a car to the shed, I knew it was Tikhon. Rafayel had him retrieve my car because he insisted—scratch that. Heorderedthat I ride in his.

When the call line went dead, he dropped the phone and faced me with a dead look in his eyes. I’d never seen a man so rigid and uptight.

“You’ll be staying here in my home until I resolve the situation with your father. I don’t want you or my child near any of those darn Italians. They’re unpredictable, and that’s one risk I’m not taking.”

Thosedarn Italians? And did he mention staying in his home, like I was, what, a coward on the run?

“Uh, excuse me, Almighty. I don’t mean to throw you off your high horse, but look at me.” I glared, so he got the point. “I am one of thosedarnItalians.”

Rafayel scrunched his nose as if he were eating sour grapes. “No need to remind me.”

My heart squeezed painfully as I watched his fists clench and unclench on the top of the desk. I couldn’t make sense of theknot tightening in my chest. His anger shouldn’t have mattered to me, the way his exterior morphed into an impenetrable wall because of the weight of the betrayal. It shouldn’t have meant anything.

But it did.

There was something about the way he looked at me, his dark eyes filled with hurt that cut deeper than his words ever could. I hated it. Hated the way guilt settled heavy in my stomach, clawing at my resolve.

I shouldn’t have cared. He was the enemy. His pain was deserved, wasn’t it? Yet I found myself wishing—deep down in the parts of me I tried to ignore—that Papa hadn’t done this. That I hadn’t hurt him.

“Listen to me.” I was willing to try a softer approach, “I cannot stay here.”

A perfectly carved brow hung up on his forehead. “Did I ask you if you can or cannot stay?”

I massaged my temple. He was making it too fucking hard to stay nice. “Rafayel….”

“To make it clear,Leonora,there is no room for your opinion. I know you’re used to having things always go your way, the brat that you are. But not here. Here, you will do as I fucking say. And I say you’re listening only to my fucking orders from now on.”

And that was exactly what I feared, that his need to dominate and protect us was going to costmea great deal. Gritting my teeth, I rose from the seat and marched up to his looming figure brooding by the bookshelf.

“I appreciate your compliments and endearment, asshole. But I have a fucking empire to run. My papa might have played the role of a conniving villain, but that doesn’t make you some sort of saint. You’re not any better, Mr. Yezhov. And I’m not abandoning my people just because you ordered it.”

“Is that so?” Dark, dangerous eyes challenged me, and I carefully selected my words before speaking.

“It is.”

“Then, I dare you,” he sidestepped, glancing at the door over his shoulder, “to walk out that door.”

He gave a dry smile, and when I noticed how close we stood, suddenly, a ferocious heat crackled in the air, thick and oppressive, wrapping around me like a vice.

“You won’t obey me, am I right? You refuse to subject your fucking pride and surrender, am I right, Leo? Then walk out that fucking door before I do something we’ll probably regret.”

Every nerve in my body fired in unison, warning me, urging me to step back, to create distance. To seize this moment and run out that door without looking back.

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