Page 36 of The Bratva's Hunted Bride
“That’s not how they were meant to find out. I wasn’t even ready to tell them. Why did youtellthem?” I shout, angry and confused about everything that just happened. What are the chances of them being there? What are the chances that they would arrive just as we were leaving? It seems like the worst kind of luck. If we’d left fifteen minutes sooner…
I wipe the back of my hand across my cheek, smearing away the tears. I’m embarrassed, I’m miserable that the people I’ve known my whole life would speak to me like that, that the only person who actually had my back in there was the man who kidnapped me.
I can’t even reach out to Marlen now to try and fix this. Will I ever be able to fix this? I can’t undo what he knows.
For a while, we drive in silence, but the tension in the car is heavy. The weight on my shoulders is aching up the back of my neck as a headache begins to build, pulling from between my shoulder blades. The tears streaking down my cheeks now are silent, slower, and more controlled. But the ache in my heart is just as bad, if not growing worse, as my new reality settles in.
“It’s going to be ok,” Timofey says softly, his voice more gentle than I’ve ever heard it before.
“You don’t know that. You can’t say things like that when you can’t see the future.”
He looks across the car toward me, and the expression on his face makes me realize again just how calm he was when we bumped into my brothers. In fact, the memory that flashes through my mind is his smile.
My heart somersaults.
“You planned that,” I say, gasping in shock, the words spilling from my mouth in accusation.
Timofey says nothing; his expression changes, though, the slightest twitch of his eyelid giving him away.
“Timofey,” I shout angrily. “You knew my brothers were going to be there and you planned the whole thing.”
Timofey takes in a long, slow breath. He isn’t phased in the least. And he’s not even trying to defend himself.
“Nothing bad comes of the world knowing that you’re carrying my child, Talia,” he says blandly.
“Nothing bad? Are you serious? Were you even there now? Did you not hear what my brothers said to me? My own family,” I gasp.
“It’s bigger than that,” he shrugs.
“How can it be bigger than my whole life falling apart?” I cry out, clenching my fists in my lap as I glare daggers at him.
“Now, everyone will know that you are bound to the Abashins. That our families are tied. For some time, there will be confusion. Our allies and rivals won’t know what to do or how to respond…so…they’ll do nothing until the dust settles and some kind of final decision is made.”
“Bratva business?” I say in disbelief.
“Of course, darling. The Abashins are safe for now.
He speaks as though this was the obvious plan all along. My heart sinks low, slipping into the pit of my stomach. Itwashis plan all along. It’s all he ever cared about—to use me in his game of chess. To move pieces around like tools. Because that’s all I have ever been to him. A tool.
I can’t believe there was ever even the smallest flicker of attraction. I can’t believe I ever had even the smallest, minutest glimmer of any kind of emotional connection to this man.
He is the monster they all say he is.
And I was foolish enough to become comfortable with him.
And now I’m carrying his baby.
And he’s caused a rift between my family and me.
I feel a deep, cutting sense of betrayal. I feel like a complete fool. Like I’ve been a fool all along. It hurts. Cracks form across my heart, but then the hurt embarrasses me because it feels like weakness, and it quickly turns into anger.
The rage that slams into me is like a tidal wave. A force of nature.
“Stop this car right now,” I scream, grabbing the door handle and tugging it, even though we’re speeding down a highway. Irrationally, I want to leap from the moving vehicle. I am so desperate to be as far away from this man as possible that I’ve lost my mind. How could I ever, even for a moment, have thought that I could trust him?
The car door clicks open, and I push against the force of the wind trying to whip it closed again. I lean forward in my seat, ready to leap out. “Stop the car,” I scream at him again.
“Are you fucking crazy?” He reaches over me and grabs the door, tugging it shut. I push his arm away from me, but with one easy movement, he shoves me back into my seat. He locks his entire arm over my chest, not letting me move, as I fight and shout and tell him exactly what I think of him.
