Page 34 of Bratva Baby

I find her in the hallway, rummaging through a small linen closet. She startles when I appear. “What are you—?”

“Looking for you,” I lie smoothly, pulling her phone out. “You left this downstairs.”

She accepts it without so much as glancing at the screen. “Thanks.”

We head down to the dining room, where I order a quick meal from the staff. Halfway through the meal, my phone buzzes with a message from Akim, flagged urgent.

We cracked the burner phone. Last number dialed was Evan Thorne. But it’s suspicious. The call happened minutes before we hit the yard. Looks like it was dialed on purpose to set him up.

I text back:Explain ‘on purpose.’

A moment later, he replies:No record of an actual conversation. Just a quick dial, then an immediate hang-up. The phone was set to store the number under a code name. Looks staged.

My pulse ticks faster. So someone used that phone to implicate Evan or to create a trail leading us to him. That might mean Evan’s innocent of direct involvement in that particular plan. Or maybe he’s being framed for reasons unknown.

Pavel’s memory flickers through my mind. He died without answers, and I swore to find them. Now I’m juggling the question of who’s behind that phone, plus the danger swirling around Seraphina’s father.

I force a steady breath, closing my eyes briefly. The day has been a whirlwind: confronting Evan, drawing blood in defense of a wife who won’t even admit she needs protection, and then discovering new complications in the search for Pavel’s killers.

We’ll dig deeper into that staged phone call and trace every possibility. Meanwhile, I’ll watch Seraphina more closely. She might resent my caution, but I can’t let her father’s cruelty or some cunning puppet master rip her from me. If that means being ruthless in my own house, so be it.

Chapter 15 - Seraphina

I’m balancing a breakfast tray on my lap, trying to force down a piece of toast, when my phone rings. The jarring ringtone makes my heart jolt, and I fumble to answer. I see Cecily’s name on the screen, and a ripple of dread travels through me. After the way I left things the other day, my gut says something’s wrong.

“Cecily?” I answer, pressing the phone to my ear.

She sounds breathless. “What the hell was your husband thinking?”

I sit up straight. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, like you don’t know.” Her tone sends me reeling. Cecily never raises her voice. Never.

I set my plate aside. “Cecily, what happened? You need to give me context, or—”

She snorts a harsh, humorless sound. When she speaks, her voice trembles with anger. Maybe fear, too. “You really have no idea?”

My blood chills. “Cecily—”

“Promise you won’t freak out.”

“Just tell me.”

Her words spill out in a rush: “Grigor showed up at our house. He… stabbed Father’s hand to his desk. It was… I’ve never seen anything so awful. There was blood, yelling, everything.”

“He… stabbed him? When?”

“Yesterday afternoon. Right after you left. Father was raging after the fight you two had. Then Grigor arrived, pushedpast the guards, and marched straight in. I… Sera, it was intense.”

My pulse pounds. I struggle to process the image: Grigor storming into that office, using violence to avenge me. Nausea churns in my gut, partly horror at the brutality, partly relief that Father deserved some comeuppance for hurting me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replies quickly. “Father’s not. He’s furious and moaning about revenge, but he’s got a bandaged hand now. At least it’s not life-threatening. Grigor threatened to kill him if he ever lays a hand on you again.”

My breath hitches. I went to great lengths to hide the bruise from Grigor. I’ve never worn so much makeup in my life. He must have found out through one of the bodyguards. A wave of panic hits me. If he discovered my father struck me, maybe he also discovered everything else, including my spying. I close my eyes as a cold sweat gathers on my brow.

“Sera?” Cecily prompts. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” I force out. “I… I’m here.”

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