Page 63 of Surrogate for the Bratva
A quick rapping on my door drew a gasp from me. After hours of silence, the sharp, loud sound was jarring. I gave my eyes a moment to focus before I stood and slowly made my way to the door. Nerves danced in my belly as I gripped the handle and gave it a tug. “Mikhail,” I frowned. “What are you doing here?” Neither Igor nor Ivan said anything about anyone else being at the house tonight.
He looked left and then right and when his gaze settled forward again, he still wasn’t quite looking at me. “There’s been a threat.”
“What?” I took a step back, suddenly nervous. “A threat against who?” His demeanor was all off. Everything was wrong. “Where is Ivan?”
“That is not your concern,” he answered, his tone terse, borderline angry.
I looked at Mikhail for a long moment. Gone was his easy smile and in its place was something fearful. Something nervous. “I’ll be fine here, but thanks.” I attempted to close the door, thinking—maybe hoping—that would be the end of that.
But I was wrong.
So very wrong.
Mikhail’s hand suddenly flew out and smacked against the door just before it closed. His pale blue eyes looked icier than usual, and I took another step back. “Look, don’t make this difficult. Just come with me. I need to get you out of the house.”
Whatever else I was feeling—wariness, fear, and suspicion—was replaced by certainty that something was wrong. Mikhail was wrong. “Where is Ivan?” I asked again with more indignation.
He growled in my direction and grabbed my arm, yanking me forward with enough force that it wrenched my arm. “No more questions, ,” he grunted and began tugging me toward the steps.
I made myself as heavy as I could, fully aware that something wasn’t right. Igor and Ivan had made a point to tell me to stay inside the house and now Mikhail—who wasn’t even supposed to be here—was trying to get me to do the opposite. I shouted out, “Ivan, where are you? Ivan, help!”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” Mikhail snapped.
He kept pulling me until I stood at the top of the stairs, stubborn and scared. “It doesn’t matter to me,” he shrugged. “Come down on your own or I can push you down. That baby is dead either way.”
His words brought me up short as he knew they would. No matter what else happened tonight, I needed to care for this baby as if it were my own. Not because I hoped it would be, in a sense, but because losing this child would devastate Igor and he would destroy the whole world in an act of vengeance. “Fine but keep your fucking hands to yourself.” I worked hard to sound brave and strong, but tears stung my eyes as I made my way down the stairs. Ignoring his earlier threat I tried yelling out again, “Help! Anybody, if you can hear me, help! Please!”
He laughed. “No one is here, so scream all you want.”
No one can hear me.I shivered at that thought but still I yelled and shouted, hoping he was lying to make me more compliant. “Where is everyone? Did you kill them all? Where are we going?”
He stopped and turned to me with hate in his eyes. “You talk too fucking much. I don’t want to kill you, just the baby.” He grabbed my chin between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. “But Icankill you just for the fucking fun of it if you don’t shut the hell up.”
I nodded and he released me and continued through the kitchen and out onto the terrace. We walked across the gardens, and I stopped again. “Why would you kill me? I’m just the vessel growing the baby.”
Mikhail snorted. “You’re fucking Igor.”
“Of course I am,” I laughed. “He’s hot and he’s rich. And I’m stuck here for a few more months.” The lie tasted bitter on my tongue but that was none of his business.
He tugged me again but this time I pulled back, suddenly aware that I was no longer in the house. That I was in very clear danger. “Whatever lies you need to tell yourself.”
“Why are you doing this? Why betray Igor? He trusts you.”
“Why? The same reason you agreed to carry his baby. Money, of course. Dmitry offered me a shit ton of it to keep him informed about things around here.”
I laughed as he pushed me past the gardens and the garden shed. This would be really cool if it was just one of my cozy mysteries and not in fact real life, with real life consequences. “And he’s offered you a spot within his organization, right?”
He shrugged when I looked back at him, but I saw it, that spark of hope, that desire to move up the ranks. I recognized it because that was my life from the moment I graduated from college.
“And you really think he’s going to keep his word?”
“Voronov is an honorable man,” he insisted. His tone was adamant.
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” We moved deeper onto the property, past a large brick structure I’d never seen before and a boathouse, which was odd because I didn’t realize there was a lake here.
“You don’t know shit.” He was angry and annoyed, not a good combination when I spotted the gun under his suit jacket about five minutes ago.
“I don’t need to knowshit,” I shot back. “I know one thing well. Movies. And there is no way in hell that Dmitry will ever trust a man who betrayed his boss. He might pay you, maybe,” I emphasized. “But he’s never going to hire you and that’s if he lets you live.”
