Page 30 of Knocked-up Bratva Bride
But this? Two of my men were dead, and one was injured. This was different. This was bold and reckless. And if they were that reckless, it meant they were either stupid, or they were ready to die.
But first….
“Fedor, I need the names of the men from the warehouse. You’ll pay visits to the families of the deceased to give them the news.”
“And their wages?”
“We’ll settle it with a twenty percent bonus on each of them.”
Behind us, the door hinges creaked, and we both looked over our shoulders, facing the full view of my daughter catwalking down the steps in her purple sweater dress and knee-high boots, with her head raised, chin held high, and the breeze ruffling her hair to the side.
She looked like a true princess, too dressed up to be going on a stroll within the estate.
Irritated, I intercepted her path. “Where are you going?”
Katya silently brushed past me, ignoring the question, and Fedor,without my permission, stepped in front of her, eyes flashing.
“Little girl, the boss speaks to you,” he growled in fierce Russian.
Katya was a decent height, standing at a solid five-eleven, but her head snapped up, andfurther up, to meet his gaze. She snarled, “Fuck off, bodyguard. Get out of my way.”
“You honestly think I’ll let you get past without addressing him with some fucking respect?”
“I heard him, and I’m choosing not to answer. If that’s a problem with you, take it up with him.”
“You’re really a brat,” he said in Russian, drawing a deep gasp from Katya.
“What did you just call me?”
“The two of you, that’s enough!” Their eyes snapped to me, both filled with annoyance. I focused on my daughter. “Katya, I asked you a question.”
“If you must know, I’m heading out to finalize my birthday plans.” Exasperatedly, she combed her fingers through her hair, fighting to calm herself down. “Not that you remembered, or anything.”
“I do remember. It’s in three days.”
Shock flickered through her eyes before she raised her guard again, blocking me out. “Then, I see no problem with—”
“There is a problem. Firstly, it’s fucking late. Secondly, with the Dalys acting out, we’re keeping strict security protocols. That means you’re going to throw your party here, in the estate. It’s safer. Andthatis my final take on it.”
I watched Katya’s jaw tighten with irritation, but I said nothing. There was no reason to.
She waited—for what, I wasn’t sure. A change of heart? A rare moment of reconsideration? Whatever it was, she didn’t get it.
With a barely stifled breath through her nose, she turned and walked back into the house, her heels tapping the marble floor like a ticking metronome.
Then, like a programmed robot, she halted on the last step and flipped the bird at Fedor.
“Count yourself lucky tonight, Bob the Builder. Any day or time you’re ready, I can take you on.”
“You fucking wish,” he muttered under his breath with a snort. “Before you even lift a finger, you’re dust.”
She stormed into the house, slamming the door behind her, and I scowled when Fedor returned to stand by my side.
“You threaten and insult my daughter in front of my face, Fedor?”
“Respectfully, boss, she was being a brat, and I know you think you have to tolerate her shitty attitude, but I don’t. It’s my job first to be loyal to you andprotectyou, before dealing with whiny, disrespectful—” He stopped talking when I gave him a look that could kill.
“And you know if it were anyone else who’d tried that crap, I would have blown off his fucking balls. So, you should count yourself lucky indeed tonight.”
