Page 3 of Pregnant Bratva Bride

Hours had passed since I left the cemetery, and I’d been too consumed trying to convince myself that Aaron would never betray me the way he did that I hadn’t realized when I walked to Vadim nightclub.

Vadim nightclub belonged to Sergey Vadim, a Russian businessman in Chicago. His family owned the state's biggest hotels, clubs, and airline.

From where I was standing, I could see the neon lights flickering inside, hands moving to the music seeping outside from inside the club. It was a Friday night, and I’d be dead before anyone caught me wearing a white shirt and black skirt into the club on a Friday night, but I couldn’t care less right now.

All I needed was to drown myself in alcohol and fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow when I went back home.

As I expected, disgusted eyes followed me as I weaved through the sea of people in the club and reached the front bar. I grabbed a stool and hailed the waiter.

“Hello, Ms.,” the barman said with a smile. “What would you like to have?”

“A martini please,” I responded, setting my handbag on the stool beside me. “Two martinis.” Even two wouldn’t do much to make me forget Aaron.

He smiled, grabbed two glasses, and started to mix the alcohol. “You had a rough day, didn’t you?”

I palmed my forehead and huffed. “The worst day of my life, actually.” I didn’t like to overshare with strangers, but a weight sat on my chest, weighing me down and threatening to crush me to death if I held back.I’m claustrophobic by the way.

“Let me guess, boy problems?”

“That,” I snapped my fingers. “And the fact that today makes it a year since I lost my mother.”

The barman pushed two glasses of martini to me. “I’m sorry about your mom, and your man is a jerk.”

I didn’t care to fight back a smile. “My mother wasn’t the best, and you’re right. Aaron is a jerk.”

“Here you go.” The barman pushed a third martini to me. “This one is on the house.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled and nodded, then he went away to attend to the other customers.

I grabbed one of the martinis and gulped it down in one drink. Then I cringed as it trailed down my throat, mixing with the bitterness in my stomach.

That one’s for you, Aaron. I hate you.

I drank the second glass.

That one’s for you, Mom. I miss you, and I hate that I do.

I slammed the glass on the table and waited a minute for the scorch to settle in my stomach before bringing the third glass to my mouth.

“Baby!”

Shivers crawled down my spine at the sound of the voice, but firm hands gripped mine and forced them to the table before I could twist my head in his direction. I gasped as my drink quivered and spilled on the oakwood.

“Oh, no!” My veins twitched. Martinis were fucking expensive, and whoever this idiot was, I wanted to smack him for wasting my last glass. Flinging his hands off mine, I tilted my head up to his and flicked my gaze to him.

When my eyes met his, my body tensed and a new wave of anger darkened my thoughts. It was Aaron, the bastard I hated more than anyone else in the world. “What are you doing here?”

He huffed angrily and set his hands on his waist, looking at me with disgust. “I should be asking you that.”

“Should you?” I twisted my neck to the table, carried what was left of my martini, and finished it in one swig. I slammed the empty glass on the oakwood and glared at Aaron.How much I want to wrap my fingers around his neck.“You’re a jerk, you know that?”

He rolled his bottom lips between his teeth. “Baby, it’s not what you think, okay? I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

My fists clenched, but I tried to keep calm. I couldn’t let him see how much I was breaking inside right now. “I’m sure you didn’t. Please leave, I’d rather not see your face.”

“I’m not leaving without you.” He gave me that disgusted look again. “Look at you, you’re a mess.”

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