Page 47 of Pregnant with Bratva Twins
I hang up, heart pounding with a twisted mix of anticipation and dread. Every asset is in play. Every favor called in. This is what I was made for: violence, strategy, control. It feels almost good to step back into the old skin, the one I wore before she ever looked at me with hope.
Lui pulls the car onto the highway, the lights of the city giving way to darkness and the endless hiss of the ocean beyond. We ride in silence, the only sound the rumble of the engine and the wind carving its way through the world. I look over at him, see the tension in his jaw, the awareness that this hunt is different. This is personal, final.
“She can’t run forever,” I say, voice low. “She can’t hide from me.”
Lui glances over, nods once, and turns his eyes back to the road.
As the miles slip past, I feel the warpath settle into me, cold and certain. Jessa is out there, somewhere close. My daughter is growing up without her father. I have lost enough, for long enough.
This time, I will not fail. This time, the ghosts will not win. I will bring them home, or I will leave nothing left to find.
The jet waits at the far end of the private runway, its nose pointed toward a future I’ve spent three and a half years clawing toward. I move fast, taking the steps two at a time, feeling the hum of the engines through the soles of my shoes. The city behind us glitters and flickers, a thousand lives I’ve discarded for this moment, for this one last hunt.
Inside, the cabin is silent except for the muted whine of takeoff. Lui takes the seat across from me, his shoulders tense, eyes scanning a laptop as data scrolls across the screen—addresses, maps, lists of names. He’s never been much for comfort. I don’t need it. All I need are facts and the fire that’s kept me moving even when everything else was dust.
I settle into my seat, buckle in, and let the city fall away below us, lights blurring into rivers of gold and blue as the jet climbs.
My mind is already somewhere else. It’s on the coast, on the line where the ocean chews the shore, on a house I’ve never seen but have imagined a thousand times.
My thoughts flicker through every detail, building a world around Jessa and the girls. I see her making breakfast, hair tied back, the kids playing on the kitchen floor. I imagine their laughter, their voices, the way their faces must change as they grow.
Lui clears his throat, breaking the quiet. “Clinic records. Two girls, registered with a private practice in the last eighteen months. Names could be fake. There’s also an elementary school with a new teacher. One of the mothers described her as ‘foreign, blonde, keeps to herself.’ Bakery staff saw a woman matching the description buy bread twice a week. Always cash, always polite.”
I lean forward, studying the screen, my heart thudding out a new rhythm. “It fits,” I say. “All of it.”
He nods, glancing out the window. “She’s good. Knows how to disappear. Even ghosts leave footprints if you look hard enough.”
The jet slices through the night. My patience is gone. Every hour I wait, she slips further away. No more patience. No more mercy.
We land at a tiny regional airport just as the sky turns gray, the world between night and morning. I step out, cold air biting my face. There’s no one here to greet us, no fanfare. That’s how I want it.
Lui drives us out of the city, avoiding main roads, cutting through woods and winding lanes where only locals pass. We blend in, just two more strangers, lost in the shuffle of tourists and fishermen and the early risers of this sleepy coast.
The world narrows to the hunt. My woman, my daughter, my future. Everything else falls away.
As we drive, the landscape unspools in waves of grass and sand, small houses huddled together against the wind. I stare at the road, letting old ghosts ride with me—memories of the last time I saw Jessa, of the violence and the tenderness, of every mistake I made that sent her running. I count the cost in blood and years, in men lost and lines crossed. I think of my men who fell because I couldn’t let her go. I wonder if my daughter knows my name. If Jessa ever lets her ask about her father. Does she even know who I am?
Lui watches me, waiting for the right moment to speak. When he does, his voice is low but steady. “You ready for this? You really think she’ll just come back with you?”
I meet his eyes, my own hard as steel. “She doesn’t have a choice.” I say it because it’s true—because I need it to be true. In my mind, the ending is inevitable. I have come too far, destroyed too much, to turn back now.
Lui doesn’t answer, but I see the concern in his eyes. He’s not afraid of what I’ll do. He’s afraid of what I’ll become when it’s done. I don’t care. I’ve lived with monsters for years. I know how to be one.
We drive on in silence, the village lights growing brighter ahead of us, the ocean on our left a dark and restless beast. Every muscle in my body is taut, every nerve tuned to the possibility of what comes next.
She’s out there. I can feel it. Every instinct screams it, and I am not leaving without her. Without my blood.
We pull off onto a sandy overlook, headlights off. Below, the town glows. It’s small, safe, oblivious to the storm about to break. The sea is black and endless, waves hissing against the rocks.
Somewhere, in one of those warm-lit windows, is Jessa. Somewhere, my daughter sleeps.
Lui kills the engine. For a moment, I just sit, staring out at the world I’ve come to claim. My hands flex, the ache in my chest as sharp as the night air. Three years I’ve hunted. Three years I’ve burned. It all ends here.
Lui opens the door, steps out onto the sand, his silhouette sharp against the pale horizon. I follow, boots crunching over gravel. The breeze is cold, briny, and full of promise.
I stand at the edge, watching the waves, watching the town, letting the anticipation and dread swirl together until I am nothing but purpose.
I’m coming for you,I think.For both of you. No more waiting.
