Page 32 of Pregnant Bratva Wife
These were the kind of numbers you heard about when Elon Musk tanked a stock with a tweet. Or on TV shows about billionaires.
Transfers in the tens of millions.
Both in and out.
Who the hell had I married?
I scanned through the pages, none of the names ringing a bell, when I stopped short.
I couldn’t have read that right.
I traced back the lines to the name that couldn’t be.
My heart dropped.
Megan Malone.
My sister.
I stared at the transaction details, certain I was hallucinating.
Transfer to: Megan Malone
Amount: $100,000.00
Dated for three days after our wedding.
One hundred thousand dollars.
As promised, Federico had transferred the five grand to the loan sharks before our wedding. With the wedding being so recent, I hadn’t yet brought up the rest of the funds.
According to the contract we signed, he was supposed to pay off Mom’s debts directly and transfer $25,000 to Megan for her tuition next month. I thought I’d remind him a week or two in advance.
I never imagined he’d already done it. Just handled it—like it was nothing.
And the worst part? He didn’t even tell me. Not a word. Like, I wasn’t part of the deal at all.
And he sent four times the needed amount.
The paper shook in my hands. One hundred fucking thousand dollars. Enough for Megan’s entire education. Enough to change our lives completely.
I fell back in Federico’s chair, feeling like I’d been sucker-punched.
***
Later that evening, I heard Federico’s car in the driveway. I had been waiting all day to talk to him and rushed out of my room, running down the stairs.
I found him in the living room, mid-motion, tugging his jacket off his shoulders.
The move pulled his shirt taut across his broad, sculpted, annoyingly solid chest. I found myself staring before my brain caught up with my eyeballs.
Oh god.
Was I actually ogling him?
Internally screaming to abort the mission, I yanked my gaze up—
Right into his beautiful green eyes.
