Page 22 of Plus-Size Bratva Bride

Abe's blue-gray eyes met mine, unflinching. "Yes, I am."

I stared at him, taking in his impeccable appearance—the crisp white shirt, the perfectly styled dark hair. How could this man, who looked like he'd stepped out of a GQ magazine, be part of the most feared group of protectors in the Bratva? I’ve heard of them before from behind closed doors, in passing. I never thought they’d be walking amongst us like regular people.

"But… how?" I stammered, my mind reeling. "Why?"

Abe leaned back, his body relaxed despite the bombshell he'd just dropped. "It's quite simple, really," he said, his voice steady. "The Vadims gave my brothers and me a chance, and where we come from, a chance is a rare thing to have received." He leans over, fierce loyalty etched on his face. “For them, we would doanything.”

I flinched at his focused use of the word 'anything.' My stomach churned as I processed the implications. "So you… kill people?"

"When necessary," Abe replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "But it's not just about killing, Pippa. We gather intelligence,infiltrate rival organizations, and protect our own. The Trinity is about maintaining order and safety for our people."

I listened, my mind racing. The Vadims had always kept me away from the darker side of the Bratva. But now, here I was, face to face with one of its most dangerous alliances. And yet…

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly. "Aren't you worried I'll… I don't know, be afraid of you or something?"

Abe's lips curved into a small smile. "Are you?" he challenged.

I bit my lip, considering. The smart thing would be to run, to get as far away from this man as possible. But something kept me rooted to the spot, a mix of everything; that night in my office, the way we innocently bickered all the time, how he killed a man to save my life, and his gentle hands when he fixed my wound.

"No," I admitted finally. "I’m not."

Abe nodded as if he'd expected nothing less. "Good," he said. "Because believe it or not, Pippa, I want to keep you safe."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, an unexpected thrill mingling in my chest as I realized that not only did I believe him, but that I felt a profound joy to knowhewanted to keepmesafe. The Unholy Trinity's reputation loomed large in my mind—stories of ruthless attacks and merciless revenge. Yet, as I looked at Abe with that small smile on his chiseled face, a hint of a dimple on his chin as he stared at me with the softest eyes, I felt an inexplicable sense of safety wash over me.

I realized in that moment that I didn’t have to understand anymore. It wasn’t all black and white. He wasboth, the manwho smashed another’s head in tonight, and a man who fixed my wounds with the gentlest hands.

My hands trembled slightly, and I clasped them tightly in my lap, willing them to be still as I reconciled all the emotions flooding through me.

"Are you alright?" Abe asked, his voice low and intense.

I swallowed, and when I looked at him with all that concern across his face, I realized I could be honest. “Confused, mostly. But I’m alright.”

He leaned forward and gently placed his hand over mine, before squeezing tight. I felt a spark shoot up my arm, and my heart raced at the touch.

“I understand,” he whispered. I swear, he was so close I could have leaned forward and felt his breath on my nose. Gently, he released my hand, and the peaceful joy I felt a second ago was replaced with loneliness, as though something was amiss.

I stared at the spot where his hand had rested, where I could still feel his heat, but when I looked up, I caught him glancing at his watch. With a sigh, he rose from the couch, his eyes seeking mine out for that dreadful, imminent goodbye. My heart rate spiked as I realized what was happening.

"I should go," he said, his deep voice steady and reassuring. "But you'll be safe here, Pippa. This place is more secure than Fort Knox. There’s food in the fridge, so you won’t go hungry. Stay here tonight and tomorrow, we will see whether it’s safe for you to go back home."

He stared at me for a brief moment, his eyes lingering on mine momentarily as though he was waiting for something. But, I was too shell-shocked to imagine spending the night herealone. That idea seemed unfathomable, but how would it sound if I begged him to stay? What would he think?

I remembered that night in my office, how he’d walked out when I thought we’d be having sex. He didn’t show up to work for four days after.

And so, I choked on my words, allowed the inevitable to happen.

He turned and began to walk toward the door, but with each step he took, this place felt darker. The walls were closing in on me and the panic rose in my chest. The thought of being left alone in this unfamiliar safe house, with everything I'd learned pressing down on me, was unbearable.

My vision narrowed on him, his hand on the knob. One more second, and I’d be here alone. What if someone came? Was there a gun around here? Did I know how to use a gun?

"Wait!" I cried out, my voice cracking. "Abrahim, please… don't go."

I didn’t know whether it was the sound of my voice, the desperation clawing in my tone, or the very fact that I asked him to stay, but he paused, hand on the doorknob, and turned to face me. I could see the hesitation in his eyes, a flicker of softness.

It seemed safe to tell him exactly how I felt after he admitted who he was.

"I know I should be stronger," I continued, hating how vulnerable I sounded. "But I'm scared. Everything's changed, and I… I don't want to be alone right now."

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