Page 72 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

Brigitte’s hard expression softens. She looks down at Lukas, a distant smile on her lips. “You got pregnant.”

What the fuck? Just when the pieces were starting to fit together, she drops that bomb, scattering them to the corners of the earth again.

I stammer, “What the hell does my pregnancy have to do with anything?”

“We didn’t know who the father was at first,” Brigitte continues, her upper lip curling in distaste. “But it didn’t matter. When I told Jorik, he decided that could be how you repaid him.”

My body goes numb. I can’t feel my fingers or toes. All the blood in my body seems to have rushed to my head.

“You… you want Lukas?”

Her eyes find mine. They’re brewing with viscous, uncut hatred. “Have I never told you I can’t have children? A medical condition. Barren until the day I die.”

Her bitterness hits me like a tidal wave. As do more memories.

All the times Brigitte brought me ginger ale and crackers when I was nauseous in the first trimester flash in my mind. I remember coming out of my doctor’s appointments to her anxious texts, wondering how things had gone, what the doctor had said.

She had seemed so concerned for me. Without a partner to go through pregnancy with, I was so grateful for her support. I thanked her too many times to count for being there for me. The pillar I would fall down without.

Now, I know the truth. She wasn’t there tohelpme.

She was there towatchme.

To monitor my progress. To make sure Lukas was fine…

So she could take him as her own.

The dizzying rush in my head begins to fade, giving way to dangerously clear thoughts for the first time in hours.

I may be locked in this cell. I may be weak and confused and outmaneuvered from every angle.

But I know one thing for damn sure: no one is taking my baby from me.

I shove myself off the wall and run as fast as I can across the room. I’m in pain and still healing from giving birth, but that doesn’t matter right now.

What matters in this moment is getting my son back from this psychopath.

Brigitte has a gun, but it’s shoved in the side of her pants. She can’t hold onto a baby, grab for her gun, and hold me off all at once. And I’m betting on the fact that she won’t drop Lukas to go for the weapon.

When Brigitte realizes what I’m doing, she lets out a yelp and moves her hand to the gun, but I’m on her too fast. I claw at her arm before she can release the weapon.

It’s a strange dance, fighting her while also trying to keep Lukas safe, but I do the best I can. I grab a handful of Brigitte’s hair and drag her further into the room, away from the door. That way, she can’t escape and slam the door shut on me.

“Help! Help!” she screams.

Lukas is crying along with her. And so am I, I realize. Shrieking like a banshee as I unleash everything I have on this traitor, this monster.

I try to grab the gun from her waist, but she twists her body away from me. I lift my foot and bring it down hard on Brigitte’s knee. Something crunches in her. She wails out in pain.

Something crunches in me, too. The blow sends a nasty jolt surging through my own body. I feel like I’ve ripped myself open.

Brigitte crumples to the floor and I fall with her, grappling blindly because I’m afraid of what will happen if I let go.

Will she grab the gun and shoot me? Will she run away and take Lukas with her? Will I ever see him again?

So long as I have a hold on some part of her, Lukas is still here. Still with me. For as long as that lasts, at least.

My body is ravaged completely. My head is still throbbing and tender from where Erik smashed me into the bedpost. And, lest anyone forget, I just gave birth three days ago. I’m a fucking wreck.

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