Page 14 of The Bratva's Secret Baby

Her jaw dropped. “So, you live in Russia?”

“Sweetheart,” I purred, glad that I was able to navigate the conversation in the direction I wanted it. “I live wherever I want. I visit Russia very often for business.”

She placed her hand on her chest, as if relieved.

“Oh, I almost thought you lived there for a second.”

“Would you miss me?” I teased her.

My cock twitched, as I saw her innocent blush on her cheeks.

I took a sip from my cup.

“Yesterday, you said something about not having a family. Tell me what happened?”

Her expression dropped, her eyes growing sad suddenly. It killed me to see her bubbly self shrivel.

She lifted her eyes to meet mine. “My parents died when I was six. My brother took care of me—he raised me all by himself. Worked hard as a police officer and all that. One day…” She paused, silence hanging in the air between us. Whatever she was about to say next was something that hurt her very deeply. “…he was killed. Seven stabs and that was it.”

The trembling in her voice had no business making my jaw twitch the way it did, I’d approached her to find out all I could about her, but my fists clenched with the need to protect her.

I sighed, my shoulders dropping. “Why was he killed?”

She drew in a breath. “Whatever he was earning while working for the police wasn’t sustainable. He needed more money, so he worked for an organization called The Circle. You probably haven’t heard of it, but it’s a crime organization infamous for illegal trading.”

My chest tightened at the mention of the name. If this was true, then it meant I had something to do with her brother’s death.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I hated him, you know? I despised him for working with those bastards, but when I saw him lying in that freaking casket, I couldn’t hate him anymore.” Her voice cracked, the pain in her tone slicing through my heart like a sword.

“My brother didn’t belong in the coffin, and he certainly did not deserve to die,” she cried. “He was so young and full of life. How could I keep on hating him when all he wanted was to give me a good life?”

My blood felt like thickening in my veins, and a shiver ran down my spine. I wanted to pull her into my arms, but instead, I reached for her hand across the table and squeezed it.

“What was your brother’s name?”

“Eric West.” She sniffled, moping the corner of her eyes. “They covered up his death, so he never got the justice he deserved.”

Eric West.

Eric West.

That name rang a bell… Eric West… Right, I remembered where I’d heard that name. Anger burned within me as memories of Eric flooded my mind. I remembered the young police officer who’d sworn an oath to serve The Circle.

More importantly, I remembered, he was a traitor.

Chapter Six

Rosanne

I rolled my eyes in exasperation, bringing my car to a halt in front of the tall, massive mansion.

Varkov Manor was a grandeur mansion with an imposing sight of tall, all-white columns that stretched up to the sky. The wide balconies faced outward in every direction, the large windows glinting off the sunlight.

I slid out of my car, and with the speed of a sloth, I meandered past the lattice of wrought iron fence and up the long driveway, lined with red maples and striking statues.

My lungs cramped with every step I took towards the white building looming ahead of me. The voices in my head raged and screamed for me to whirl around and run away.

I shouldn’t be here. I don’t belong here.

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