Page 24 of Dark Bratva Christmas
Which is somehow even more opulent than my own. I realize this is his bedroom.
They truly spared no expense making the space incredible. At the end of the room is a pair of beautiful French doors that lead out to a large balcony with a patio table and chairs overlooking the backyard. There's a beautiful view of the river and the city skyline beyond that.
And for a brief moment, I canalmostimagine him sitting there and drinking coffee every morning, then I realize he's not the type of person to take comfort in anything. I doubt he's ever used the space.
Unless it’s to throw bodies over the side.Yikes.
Matysh lets me go as we reach the center of the room, and turns, still broody and silent, to lock the two of us inside.
My heart throbs in my temple. I spend the moment distracting myself from the entire situation by taking in the sight of the room.
His bed is the same size as mine, with antique wooden posts and a canopy covered with dark red velvet curtains. The rest of the furniture in the room matches the bedpost and it's sparsely decorated with the exception of a few antiques that look like they might have sold for millions of dollars at auction.
The ceiling has the same gold flaked lacing as my own room. That's the only thing really familiar about it.
I force my eyes back to Matysh, noting that at least the door locks from the inside, not the outside. I can leave whenever I so choose.
Sort of.
He pulls his phone out shortly after and sends a message to someone. We sit in silence for a few moments before I hear footsteps outside the door.
Oh, lovely, someone is on guard duty.
“I'm never letting you out of my sight again,” Matysh glares at me, his eyes dark. “You’re a fucking disgrace for that stunt.”
“Thanks,” I force a smile, tipping my head to the side and letting my blonde hair fall down my shoulder. “How sweet of you.”
His jaw visibly tenses, and his lips part, but then he shakes head—as if he’s stopping himself. “While you're carrying my child, I need to make sure you're safe.” Matysh runs his fingers through his hair in a way that has me questioning him. “I won’t let you get away again.”
I shrug, bouncing my shoulders. “You'll never be able to stop me from trying, Matysh.”
He takes a step closer, his eyes still dark as they rake over me. “You should consider yourself lucky. A lot of women would be begging for more of me by now,” Matysh says, his lips curling into a hint of a smirk.
“You're so full of yourself,” I retort, letting out a dry laugh.
“Am I? I distinctly remember you enjoying my company,” Matysh shoots back, his broad shoulders appearing even broader.
My heart skips a beat in my chest, as he takes a small step toward me. I feel heat rushing to my cheeks under his gaze and I try my best to hide it, suppressing it as much as possible.
The last thing I need is for him to see how he affects me.
“Just because I appeared to enjoy it momentarily doesn’t mean I want it again,” I huff, pointing to my stomach. “We never have to do that again.”
“We can’t confirm anything until you see the doctor.” Matysh slowly approaches, his eyes scanning my body while he runs his tongue along his bottom lip.
He takes one final step toward me, grabbing my wrists with both of his hands and raising them over my head. I suck in a sharp breath.
“What are you doing?” I breathe out, my eyes leveling with his as his chin tips downward.
He dips down, brushing his nose against mine. “Serving your goddamnpunishmentfor running,ogonyok(Little Flame).” With that, he releases me, and leaves me standing right where I am.
I could run. I could make a mad dash for the door.
But something deep in my core—and maybe an unhealthy level of curiosity—has me planted right where I am. I watch as Matyshwalks to a heavy wooden black chest, lifts the lid, and then fishes something out of it.
“What is that?” I demand, my heart in my throat. I fold my arms over my chest, cautiously eyeing him as he approaches with a smaller black box.
A moment later, he opens it up and I nearly gasp at what's inside.
