Page 52 of Pregnant Prisoner By the Bratva
“I’m pregnant.” The words fell from my mouth, raw and unrestrained.
For a moment, his expression didn’t shift; he just stared at me in silence. “Pregnant?” he asked.
My body stiffened, my heart threatening to jump out of my chest.
I nodded.
Dad wiped a palm over his mouth and took two steps back. “Are you saying you’re carrying that bastard’s child in your womb?”
I frowned at his insults. “I’m carrying Yulian’s child. Yes.”
Dad’s face reddened, his scowl deepened, and the veins in his neck began to show. His fingers curled at his sides, knuckles whitening, and his eyes were sharp enough to cut through steel.
A chill ran down my spine. My breath hitched in my throat. His silence was louder than a scream, and for a moment, I wasn’t facing my father; I was facing the monster who killed my mother.
This was how it happened eight years ago. He was in a heated argument with my mother when he lost his temper and struck her so hard. She fell and hit her head against the edge of a table, blood pooling beneath her.
For a second there, I was afraid history would repeat itself. Yet, I braced myself, masking my fear with anger.
Dad walked back to me quietly. He didn’t yell, didn’t raise his hand at me. No. He just mirrored my face and said with a cold, menacing voice. “I will not let you bring shame upon this family. That being said, we will see to it that that thing in your belly is taken care of.”
My brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He ignored the question and walked away, saying, “Get ready. You will marry Franco and redeem yourself from this abomination.”
“Wait, what?!” My eyes widened, and my feet hurried me toward my father. “Dad, you can’t do this!” I snapped, pissed off at his decision.
“I can and I will.” He paused to face me again. “It’s been decided. You’re marrying Franco. End of discussion.” Dad picked up his pace and walked out of the room.
Franco followed behind him, but not until he’d flashed me a mocking grin.
I shook my head, frozen in place—unable to move a muscle.
The door was shut and then locked with a key from outside. Again, I was trapped in here: alone, confused, and fuckin’ furious.
Chapter 20 – Yulian
“What do you mean she’s gone?” I barked, eyes blazing with fury. “Gone where?”
“I’ve searched everywhere, sir,” the maid said, trembling before me, her voice breaking under the weight of her fear. “She’s not in the mansion.”
“Maxim!” I bellowed, hurrying downstairs, my voice echoing off the walls. “Maxim!”
“Boss,” he answered, standing in the living room, alarmed and on guard.
“Gather all the men. I want an explanation for how Ester vanished without a trace in a house full of guards!” I yelled, furious, deep creases lining my forehead.
His expression darkened, brows furrowing as he left my presence, barking orders into his walkie-talkie. Soon, I was surrounded by the incompetent idiots who let her slip through their fingers. With how furious I was, putting a bullet in their heads seemed like the best move at the time.
Maxim cleared his throat and stepped forward, bracing himself like he knew what he was about to spill would have me raising hell. “She didn’t leave on her own accord, Boss.” He paused, holding his breath. “She was kidnapped.”
My face was red with anger, my blood boiling as I glared at him, my fingers curling at my sides. But this wasn’t his fault. He was with me when it happened. It was theirs, these lazy ass, good-for-nothing pricks. I’d come back to them later—punish them for this costly mistake.
But for now, I had a more pressing concern: finding Ester.
“Who took her?” I asked Maxim, gritting my teeth.
“The surveillance camera captured Franco and two others leaving the building with her…unconscious.” The slight pausecame when he lowered his head, unable to stand the intensity of my gaze.
