Page 16 of The Bratva's Secret Baby

My heart melted and for a moment I forgot about my surroundings, just looking at her cuteness. “I’m your aunt, Ro,” I told her. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around very much.”

Her little giggles pierced through whatever reservations I had about coming here. I hated the Varkovs, but I loved Bella and Tatianna. As if taking the hint that his presence made me uncomfortable, Vlad placed Tatiana in my arms. “Excuse me, ladies.”

I turned my head enough to see him give Bella a brief, but warm glance before he walked away. Not that he would ever show any affection publicly.

Despite my hatred for the Bratva, I found Vlad tolerable and remained civil with him only because of how much he loved Bella. It was so genuine, I could sense just by the way he looked at her, that she was his universe… and Tatianna.

“So, my friend,” Bella started, leaning on the wall behind her. “How have you been?”

I heaved a sigh, a pang of weariness lodging inside my heart. I wished I could confide in Bella, but she had her family to take care of. I couldn’t burden her with my problems as well.

“Well… okay. How have you been?”

“Perfect.” A crescent moon smile split her lips open. “I have a husband who would do anything to make me happy, and Tatiana has the best father. What more could I ask for?”

Hearing her talk of Vlad whirled thoughts of Damien to my mind. No matter how I thought of it, there were similarities between both. It was the fact that they were both Russian and had the same icy-blue eyes.

Yes. It had to be that.

Bella’s features pinched with worry. “Are you alright, Rosanne?”

When I didn’t immediately answer, she added, “There’s something wrong, isn’t it?”

Sadness weaved through my insides. I opened my mouth, not certain of what exactly I wanted to say to her.

Rather than words, my jaw dropped open when Damien walked through the entrance with six guys in black suits behind him. All eyes turned to him as if he were a guest of honor or something.

I don’t understand… what is he doing here?

My stomach churned as I watched him walk briskly to a corner in the enormous sitting room where Vlad was talking to a group of other guys. Even in a room filled with the deadliest men in New York, Damien dominated the crowd. Some of the men gave him a loud cheer as he walked in, and he and Vlad got into a playful wrestle. Strange, I hadn’t imagined Damien to be like that at all, or Vlad.

But looking at both men, I couldn’t tell whom I found more intimidating.

“Do you know him?” Bella asked.

Do I know him?

He was Damien, a Russian who ran a business in his home country, and he loved macchiatos. My heart picked an unsteady rhythm at the realization that I didn’t know anything about him.

Everything I knew—everything he’d allowed me to know—was nothing more than shallow details. No, I didn’t know Damien, not in the slightest.

“W-who is he?” I stuttered, wanting this to be a nightmare.

He couldn’t be a Varkov, could he?

Did he belong to Bratva?

Bella waved to one of the housekeepers, signaling her to come over. “Watch over her,” she ordered. The housekeeper nodded, and then she gently took Tatianna from my hand. Once Titianna and the housekeeper were gone, Bella crossed her arms.

“You know him, don’t you?”

“I don’t know him,” I corrected her. “I’ve met him twice.” Just twice.

And I’ve had sex with him, once.

“He’s Vlad’s cousin. His name is Damien Varkov. They are more like brothers.”

Her words simmered into my stomach like poisoning, killing me slowly. My heart was racing so fast, that it cut off my air supply, and drained my lungs completely.

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