Page 24 of Dark Desires (Chicago Bratva #1)

ISABELLA

Three weeks later…

G od, is it bigger?

I’m standing in front of the full-length mirror in my room, trying to figure out if I’m showing more or not.

But one thing’s for sure—I’m glad I never had a super-flat six-pack tummy.

As I stand there, my shirt bunched up in my fist behind my back to get a good look at my midriff, it dawns on me that I’m well into the second trimester.

It’s a miracle that I’m not totally showing at this point, but I figure I’ve got a month at most before even my baggiest sweaters can’t hide the little lady—or little man.

Getting to my last prenatal appointment was tricky, but I managed it by feigning a UTI that neither my father nor the guards wanted to know too much about. It’s almost comical how big, burly, powerful men with guns still blanch when faced with a woman’s reproductive issues.

“What’re you looking at?”

I gasp, spinning around on my heels. Steph’s standing at the door to my room, a look of total confusion on her face.

“Nothing!” I let go of my shirt, letting it fall back over my belly.

She puts her hands on her hips. “I know what it is.”

“You do?”

She marches over to me with purpose in her eyes, grabs my shirt by the hem, and lifts it up a little, enough to expose my belly.

Oh shit. Oh shit.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about getting fat , Isa.”

She drops my shirt, relief washing over me as my belly is covered up again.

Time to roll with the lie. “I mean, maybe?”

She huffs. “You’re not. Seriously. And to be honest, it makes me crazy that you think there’s anything wrong with your body. You’re so lucky to have a figure with actual shape.” She pinches the side of her hip. “I’m so skinny, it drives me insane.”

“Are you kidding?” I say, coming over to her. “You look amazing. You’re going to have your pick of wedding dresses, too. They’re made for girls who don’t have giant asses like me.”

I slap my hand on my butt to make my point. Stephania laughs at the noise. She heads over to the bed and plops onto it, moving my computer out of the way.

Seconds later, she’s sprawled across my bed, her legs kicked up like a model in some old-school perfume ad. She sighs dramatically.

“Alright,” I say. “Spill it.”

“It just sucks. I feel like I’m walking into this blindfolded.”

“I get it.”

She gives me a weak smile, but her eyes drift to my laptop. “What’re you working on?”

“Updating my website. Not that it matters.” I roll my eyes. “Apparently, the world doesn’t need an edgy, mafia-adjacent interior designer. Who knew?”

Stephania sits up, her expression softening. “Don’t give up, Isa. You’re crazy talented. People just need to find you. Maybe your ads need more sparkle. Like promise to throw in bulletproof glass with every remodel?”

I laugh. “Tempting. But maybe I should just quit and become your wedding planner. God knows this circus could use a little class.”

“Trust me, it needs a lot more than that,” she says. “But seriously, Isa, don’t quit. You’re better than that.”

Before I can respond, a knock at the door interrupts us. Mario’s voice follows.

“Isabella. Stephania. Alexei is here. He says he wants to see you both.”

My stomach flips and Stephania freezes, her eyes wide.

“What is this about?” she whispers.

“No clue.” I shut my laptop and set it down on my desk, taking one last look at my figure in the mirror.

Stephania seems a little hesitant.“God, I think I’m going to be sick…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Anxiety, I think. This whole thing with Omar, his father, and now, Alexei… I think it’s finally getting to me, Isa.”

Truth be told, she’s not looking very peachy. In fact, she’s getting paler with each passing moment. Stephania is scared. In love with the wrong man and scared out of her mind. If anyone can understand what she’s going through… it’s me.

“Mar, give us a sec, OK?” I say.

He nods. “I’ll tell Mr. Plushenko to sit tight.”

“Thanks.”

Mario shuts the door, leaving us alone once more. Stephania’s face tells me she doesn’t want to be around Alexei right now.

Ironically enough, that’s the exact opposite reaction I’m having. My heart’s doing backflips at the idea of seeing him again, my stomach tensing in that delicious way. I push those feelings aside as best I can, turning my attention to my cousin.

“You’ll be fine,” I say. “Alexei’s a good guy… ish.”

“Alright. Let’s get this over with. But I’m not sitting down for tea and cookies or whatever.”

“Just smile and be polite, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

We head downstairs, and the moment my eyes land on Alexei, my breath hitches.

He’s standing in the den like he owns the place—broad shoulders filling out a perfectly tailored dark suit, his black hair tousled just enough to make him look effortlessly dangerous.

The faintest shadow of stubble lines his sharp jaw, and those piercing blue eyes sweep over us.

And then there are the flowers. Two bouquets, one in each hand. They’re stunning—vivid arrangements of roses and lilies.

“Ladies,” he greets. His gaze locks on mine for a beat too long, and the heat rises in my cheeks.

“Alexei,” Stephania says politely. He steps over and places a chaste kiss on her cheek. Then she accepts one of the bouquets with a nod. “Thank you, that’s very thoughtful.”

“You’re welcome.” He clears his throat. “I wanted to see how you were doing. Both of you.”

Stephania clutches the flowers tightly, looking ready to bolt.

“I’m fine. But I must apologize. I’ve been feeling a tad under the weather all morning.”

Alexei gives her a concerned look. “Is everything alright, Stephania?”

“Yes, perhaps just wedding jitters on top of already strenuous circumstances.” She laughs nervously, but she doesn’t really sound like herself. “I’m sorry. I have to go. Thank you again for stopping by.” She offers a quick smile before hightailing it out of there.

The door shuts behind her, and suddenly, it’s just Alexei and me.

He turns his full attention to me, extending the second bouquet. His expression softens slightly.

“And you? How are you holding up?”

God, how the hell to even begin answering that question.

Well, I’m on the verge of everyone in my life knowing I’m having an illegitimate child, but other than that, just super?

I take the flowers, my fingers brushing his.

“I’m fine. Thanks for these. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” His eyes linger on mine, and the air between us thickens.

Just the sensation of those ice-blue eyes on me makes my pussy clench. It’s unfair how much this guy can turn me on with a single look.

“Seriously, what’s with the grand gesture?”

He smirks, stepping closer, his scent—a heady mix of cedarwood and sin—invading my space.

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to see you.”

I glance down at the bouquet in my hands, the vibrant flowers suddenly feeling heavier than they should. Alexei’s standing there, impossibly close, his eyes locked on mine like he’s trying to read every thought I’ve ever had.

I want to kiss him so badly it hurts.

Hell, I want more than that. I want him to take me by the hips, to bend me over the nearest chair, and make me come again and again. I lick my lips, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the sexual tension between us.

He doesn’t say a word. It’s almost like he enjoys making me feel this way.

I clear my throat. “So, Steph couldn’t run out of here fast enough. That’s gotta feel good.”

He smirks, but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah, I noticed. Can’t say I blame her. I’m the last person she wants to marry.”

“Not going to lie and say you’re wrong. She’s been dreading this since day one. And the whole Omar thing…”

“Then why go through with it?” There’s an edge to his voice, frustration just barely kept in check. “If she doesn’t want it, and I don’t want it, then why the hell are we all pretending this is a good idea?”

I cross my arms, holding the bouquet against my chest.

“Come on, Alexei. You of all people know the answer to that. Family loyalty. Duty. All those things that get shoved down our throats from the moment we can walk. This marriage is about an alliance. Hell, it’s about preventing a war.”

Alexei chuckles bitterly. “And here I thought marriage was supposed to be a happy occasion.”

“For normal people, maybe. But for us? It’s just another business transaction. A merger with flowers and a cake.”

He sits on the arm of the wingback chair behind him. His blue eyes never leave mine. “You make it sound so romantic.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Now you’re sounding like me. And Steph, too. Aren’t you Ivanovs supposed to be the ones with ice water in your veins?”

“Not all the time. And two of my brothers and my sister married for love.”

“But you can’t,” I say matter-of-factly.

We fall into silence. His gaze softens, and for a moment, it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.

“You know,” he says, “I’m standing here with you, and all I can think about is how much better this would be if…” He trails off, his words hanging in the air.

“If what?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“If it was you.”

My breath catches, and the air between us crackles with tension. We’re close now—too close. His hand brushes mine, and I swear the room tilts.

“I guess both Stephania and I are getting the short end of the stick to protect our families, along with your father’s pride,” he scoffs.

“Alexei…” I start, but I don’t know what I’m about to say.

He leans in, his lips brushing mine in a fleeting kiss that’s over almost before it starts.

We both pull back, my eyes wide.

He runs his hand through his hair. “That was a mistake.”

“Yeah. Big mistake.”

“I should go before I make another one.”

“Probably a good idea.”

“Goodbye, Isa.”

He leaves, and I stare blankly ahead as he opens the door to the den and steps out, shutting the door softly behind him.

When he’s gone, I sink onto the nearest chair, my heart pounding. My fingers brush over my lips, still tingling from the kiss. What the hell am I doing?

The flowers sit in my lap. I glance down at my stomach, the reality of the baby hitting me all over again. It’s crazy—this little life isn’t even here yet, and I already know I’d do anything to protect it.

But what does anything mean? Would I destroy this marriage, this alliance, this fragile balance between families? Would I put everyone I care about in danger?

I’m terrified to realize that my answer might just be yes.