Page 4 of Knocked-up Bratva Bride
Regarding me cautiously, he gave a brief nod. “Understood.”
Chapter 2 – Elena
I barely heard the doors buzz open over the roaring thunder of stormy gray skies and heavy downpour until someone stepped out of the apartment building in a shiny pink raincoat and matching bubble umbrella raised over her head, a stark contrast to the gloomy backdrop.
She spotted me first, pressed into a corner of the building with my bag held over my head, even though it did a poor job of keeping the rain from drenching me completely.
“Elena?” It was Jackie, a beach surfer with perfect strawberry-blonde hair from four doors away and, I might add, a neighbor with whom I wasnotalways pleased. “Whatever are you doing over there?”
If today were any other ordinary day, I might have stolen a few seconds to envy her flawless tanned skin and size six sculpted body, but the rain seeping through my hair and into my clothes won’t allow me.
“Oh, you know, just taking a quick bath, or maybe I ignored the forecasts today and left my umbrella behind before rushing off to work,” I bit out through a flashed smile while hurriedly marching up the steps toward the doors. “See you later, Jackie.”
Or not.
The doors closed behind me, shutting off the sound of the torrent, and I breathed out, flooded with the relief of being enveloped with the warmth of the lobby and grateful that I didn’t stick around long enough to watch Jackie possibly offer me a towel to dry off.
Wiping off the water from my face, I started the climb up the stairs to my apartment. The elevators were working, but I took the long way up when I needed to clear my head.
So, back to the neighbor from four doors away.
Jackie was surprisingly nice and all, but a glimpse at her reminded me of all the things I did not have. The apartments here weren’t exactly rundown. They were decent, comfortable, and well-managed. But she didn’t reside here because this was the only place she could afford, like me.
Once, I got a proper peek into her apartment. She lived like a queen. If Jackie wished, she could snap her fingers and vacate from these downtown LA neighborhoods to cruise with those uppity Californian posh surfers in a blink. I knew it. One time, I overheard her argue about herpoor choiceswith her Malibu Ken boyfriend from down the hall.
I sneezed and the shock left a rise of goosebumps in its wake. The cold was settling in, and while I climbed the last flight of stairs, I shivered.
Forget Jackie the surfer. The closer I got to my door, the more real my life felt, and it didn’t matter how many times I wished for a tiny taste of the luxury she enjoyed—being able to afford anything at any moment, living freely without the weight of the world hanging on your shoulders.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
My chunky court heels left a faint trail of wetness on the coffee-brown, rugged hallway as I approached the door with peeling off-white paint.
308.
Exhaling, I fished my keys from my bag, slotted them into the keyhole, and opened the door to the aroma of chocolate, cakes, and coffee.
Home sweet home.
Another sneeze, more violent than the last one, ripped from my throat, and I thought I felt the walls tremble, but it was only the heavy footsteps of my brother charging toward me from the kitchen.
“Lee!”
Only Jasper called me that. It wasn’t the most obvious deviation fromElena, but it worked well enough.
“Hey, buddy!”
He flew into my arms, covered in flour and smelling of oil and sugar. I kicked off my shoes by the pot with the rubber plant and hugged him to my side. These days, I’d forgotten he was a thirteen-year-old teenager now. It felt like just yesterday when I helped our mother change his diapers and heat his milk bottles.
Now, the crown of his head stood taller than my chin. I wouldn’t say I was tall enough—like five foot eleven Jackie—but I was a solid five nine, and in my opinion, it was too soon for Jasper to be at the same height as me.
“I’m pretty soaked right now. I don’t think hugging me is a good idea.”
“I’m literally covered in butter, but you don’t mind.” He smiled up at me, and I ruffled his hair.
“What were you baking?”
“A cake, a few muffins, and scones. I thought we could have them with hot chocolate for dinner.”
