Page 56 of Pregnant Prisoner By the Bratva
“RPG!” someone shouted from one of the vehicles ahead.
I barely had time to register the word when the car in front of us burst into flames, a blinding flash swallowing it whole. The shockwave from the explosion slammed into our vehicle like a fuckin’ fist from hell.
I screamed, both hands over my ears, my body jerking forward, almost falling off the seat. Yulian held me in place, his body shielding me from the glass shattering around us.
“You’re okay—you’re okay,” he said to me, his voice dripping with urgency as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
Chaos erupted around us.
Smoke. Flames. Screams.
Rapid gunfire filled the air, fleeting bursts of light punctuating the night like fireflies.
“Stay down!” Yulian barked, his body sprawled over me.
Bullets sprayed wildly, shattering glass and ripping through the air. Even with my eyes shut and my ears covered, I could hear the screams of men dropping to the ground, hit by the hail of gunfire.
My father’s men must have ambushed us, and now both sides had clashed in a bloody battle.
Yulian kicked the door open with one fluid motion. “Come on,” he said to me. “Stay low.” He grabbed his pistol,drilling two holes in the armed assailant who’d appeared just outside the door, squeezing a round.
I screamed, flinching at this close-up gunfire.
With three precise shots, Yulian gunned down three others before they could even pull their triggers.
He turned to me, eyes scanning my body. “Are you okay? Were you hit?” His gaze dropped to my belly, where my hands sat protectively.
I nodded, then shook my head, then nodded again, my breath caught in my throat. I was trembling, confused, and unable to speak or think straight.
“You’re in shock; it happens,” he said calmly, holding my hand. “Come on, let’s get you outta here. Remember, stay low.”
With all that chaos outside and the burden of taking both me and the baby to safety, Yulian wasn’t panicking. It was almost like this was just another Tuesday for him.
The man was focused. Laser-focused, and that determination in his eyes made him the most dangerous man out here. The way he moved, leading the way with me behind holding his hand, was terrifyingly effortless. He gunned down all the enemies in his sight like violence was his second nature.
I watched Yulian take down all of our attackers with just a pistol and years of experience. His moves were fluid and swift for a man being slowed down by a defenseless woman.
Within seconds, after we were out in the open, all the armed Italians dropped dead, leaving just their leader, my father, Marco.
He stood there, surrounded by his lifeless soldiers, his pistol held up in front of him. The night was lit up by the flames of burning cars, and the air was filled with the stench of blood and burnt skin. Fire crackled, and smoke curled around the survivors of this blood bath.
Yulian stepped forward, his men pointing their guns at Marco Moretti, ready to shoot at his command.
My father’s eyes flicked past Yulian and landed on me. “You ungrateful bitch,” he spat, voice dripping with venom. “You side with the enemy against your own father? After all I’ve done for you?!” he snapped, furious.
My fear turned to anger immediately, my brows furrowing to form deep creases between them. “You’re no father of mine, Marco,” I said, stepping forward, my blood boiling with rage.
Yulian tried to stop me, but I wouldn’t let him.
I continued, “I’m done running from you. I’m done being afraid of the man who ruined my life.”
He squinted, shocked by my boldness.
“You’ve never cared about me or given a shit about my decisions, so why start now?” I asked, glaring at him.
“I clothed you!” he yelled. “And this is how you repay me? I fed you, gave you a fuckin’ education!”
“And you also killed my mother!” I yelled back, feeling all that rage coursing through my blood. My scowl deepened, my chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
