Page 24 of Dark Embers (Vegas Bratva Kings #3)

CHAPTER 24

Sabrina

Three weeks in Moscow have yielded nothing but dead ends. The hospital we sought burned down fifteen months ago—just two days before Tara begged me to hide her and feign pregnancy. No one has seen or heard from Anya Novikov in over thirty years, not since her youngest daughter died. We speculated that Lidiya Zorin might be Anya's daughter, but Anya had married Timofey Morozova, a highly decorated Russian Army veteran, ruling out that theory.

Compounding my anxiety, upon our arrival in Moscow, Oleksi informed me that my mother, Mark, his aunt Galina, and Nikolas had vanished. Their yacht disappeared near Trabzon, a Turkish port not far from Moscow.

We went to the hotel in Moscow that had my mother's phone, and to our surprise, the room had no registered guests that had stayed there the night the phone was found. But we did find out that the room was permanently booked for a prominent Russian family whose identity remains elusive. Oleksi and Syd have been tirelessly investigating, convinced this family holds the key to our loved ones' disappearance.

Amidst this turmoil, I've been grappling with a personal dilemma—whether to tell Oleksi about Elena. My paranoia has been mounting; I feel we're being followed, though Oleksi's men have found no evidence that we have been. Adding to my stress, I missed my period.

Initially, I attributed it to the chaos around me, but standing in a public bathroom in a Moscow drugstore, five pregnancy tests are glaring back at me and confirm my suspicions. Each one had two pink lines. Well, there is no pretending now.

My breath starts to become shallow as I stare at the sticks. Oh fuck, Oh fuck. I’m really pregnant. Shit! This is the last thing I need right now.

A light rap at the door pulls me back from the brink of a panic attack.

“Sabrina, is everything alright in there?” Ivan’s voice comes through the door.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” I call back. I scoop all the evidence into the wastepaper bin, wash my hands, take a deep calming breath, and leave the bathroom.

Ivan waits patiently.

“Are you okay?” Ivan asks again, noting the time I've spent inside.

“Yes,” I lie. “I don't like public bathrooms; it takes me a while.”

He chuckles, understanding.

We start walking through the mall, and Ivan's phone rings. When he steps aside to answer, my phone buzzes, and I’m surprised to see it's a message from Sam. I haven’t heard from him in weeks and was getting worried about him too.

Sabrina, what the fuck are you doing in Moscow? You're in danger.

While I’m reading the message, someone bumps into me, slipping something into my hand. Startled, I turn, but the person has vanished. I open my hand to find a small black flip phone with my name on a sticky note.

Go back to the bathroom and wait for my call.

Damn. I've just spent ten minutes in there; Ivan will think I'm incontinent.

“Ivan,” I whisper as he is still on his call. “I have to pee again. Sorry, it only trickled out last time.”

The big Russian isn't embarrassed; he nods and walks me to the door. I slip inside and wait.

The phone rings, and when I answer, I’m relieved to hear it’s Sam and I didn’t just accept some phone from a random stranger about to make me plant a bomb in a vending machine or something.

“What the fuck are you doing in Moscow?” he hisses. “Jesus, Sabrina, the first time you went to Russia, you were taking a huge chance, but that was in the ass end of the country. Now you're in Moscow!”

“I had no option. Where the fuck have you been?”

“I can't explain. But you and Elena are in danger; you have to get out of there.”

“I'll speak to Oleksi.”

“No, you can't,” Sam warns. “I have someone with him who will extract him, but you and Elena are the priority. Don't fight me on this, little missy, because staying there is putting Oleksi in danger too.”

I snort. “Yeah, right. Do you forget who he is? He's Bratva; no one's going to mess with him.”

“Sweetheart,” Sam says, “the people you're in danger from are the monsters that make monsters run and hide.”

A cold shiver creeps up my spine.

“Who are we in danger from?” I demand.

“We'll talk when you're safe,” Sam tells me. “Tomorrow, you'll ask Syd to go with you when you take Elena for her usual walk in the afternoon. Go to the end of Zaryadye Park near the entrance by Varvarka Street. You're about to be erased so those monsters think you and Elena are dead. Do you understand?”

“Why?” I ask again, alarm ripping through me.

“We'll talk when you're safe,” Sam repeats. “And Sabrina, you can't tell anyone about this. Now, do I have your word you'll be there?”

My heart pounds, nausea swirls, and all I can see are those two pink lines in my mind’s eye. I place a hand on my belly, realizing I now have two precious lives to protect.

“What about Oleksi?” I ask.

“I promise you, we'll get him out of Moscow as soon as you and Elena are safe. Your erasure can't look suspicious. Honey, you're putting him in terrible danger, not to mention Elena.”

I take a deep, shaky breath. “Okay. Tomorrow at three.”

“Hide this phone, and I'll see you soon,” he says, hanging up.

With shaky legs, I find Ivan.

I know I should’ve pretended to be tired or feigned sleep when Oleksi came to find me, but I couldn’t. I want… no need this last night with him.

I’m racked with guilt, my heart feels like it’s breaking, and my soul is clinging to the hope that I’d hallucinated Sam’s call today. I don’t want to leave him. I know it’s crazy and like my mother warned he’ll probably end up breaking my heart. But being with him feels like home—where I belong—with him—Oleksi. I know I’ll always belong to him and now I have a part of him growing inside me.

I knew on the second day in Moscow that he'd stolen my heart, and now I'm about to break the trust we've built to keep him, our unborn child, and Elena safe. I swallow and clear all thoughts from my mind. Don’t think about tomorrow, Sabrina, there is only here and now.

We are in the special room Oleksi had designed in his family's Moscow mansion, deep into our sexual play. I'm on my knees, clad only in my underwear. My bra is pulled beneath my breasts, exposing them and offering them to him while anticipation quivers through me as Oleksi approaches with my new favorite toys—vibrating nipple clamps.

He kneels before me, kissing me deeply as his fingers tease my hardening nipple, sucking and licking, driving me wild with desire.

He teases the other nipple, whispering, “Beg for it, my naughty little pet.” He snaps the clamp a few times in the air, the sound sending shivers down my spine.

“Please, sir,” I beg, “pinch my hard nipple with the clamp.”

He chuckles, gently placing the clamp onto my nipple. But instead of the usual pleasure-pain, a sharp agony sears through me. I scream, my body convulsing as a cold mist coils through me. Darkness engulfs me, the last thing I hear is Oleksi yelling my name before I collapse, the cold tile meeting my head.

Bright lights assault my senses as I come to, being wheeled through a corridor. My head throbs. I try to sit up, but a firm hand pushes me down.

“Don't sit up, baby,” Oleksi's frantic voice surrounds me, pulling me further into consciousness.

“What happened?” I ask, my voice weak. “Where am I?”

“In the emergency room,” Oleksi's words alarm me.

“Elena?” I breathe.

“She's here.” He steps back, and I see my little girl strapped into a baby sling on Oleksi's chest, sleeping peacefully.

They wheel me into a private room with soft lighting and fresh linens that do nothing to ease the panic clawing at my chest. The walls feel like they’re pressing in, the sterile scent prickling my nose. I shift to sit up, but Oleksi is there, adjusting the bed with the remote so I’m only slightly elevated. His touch is gentle, but his face—his face is tight with concern, jaw clenched like he’s barely holding it together.

Then it hits me.

The clamp. The pain. The cold rushing through me before everything went black.

I lift a hand to my forehead and wince as my fingers graze a tender knot.

“You have a gash. The nurse cleaned it and put two butterfly bandages on it,” Oleksi says, sitting down beside me, Elena still tucked securely against his chest. “And there’s quite a bump, too. You hit the tile hard when you collapsed.”

“What the hell is this?” My voice is hoarse, my throat dry when I see the ball of cotton wool pasted to the crook of my arm

“The doctor took blood as you were out for twenty minutes and I gave them my permission to.”

“Great!” I hiss. “I’m feeling fine now. I want to go.”

“No.” Oleksi’s voice snaps and his eyes hold me. “Sabrina last night when I entered you, you were in pain…” I feel my cheeks start to heat. “Then tonight your nipples are extra sensitive.” His eyes flash with concern. “Please, baby, humor me and just let the doctors run their tests.”

“Fine!” My head is aching anyway. So I lie back. “Has Syd or Ivan managed to find out anything more about that prominent mystery family who have that hotel suite?” I make conversation to keep my mind off my throbbing head and stinging nipple because the numbness that had shrouded me has warn off and FUCK, my nipple is burning like I’ve been stung by a wasp.

“Yes,” Oleksi answers. “I was about to tell you earlier but you made that hard to do when I walked into the room and found you on your knees in your black lacy underwear and heels.” His eyes darken and his mouth lifts in a delicious grin. “After that I wasn’t thinking too clearly.”

“What news were you going to tell me?” I interrupt his musings.

“You’re not going to believe who that suite is permanently booked for,” Oleksi tells me deliberately leaving me hanging like a fucking game show host making the guests wait to see if their answer is correct.

“Who?” My voice snaps with impatience.

“Anya and Timofey Morozova.” Oleksi says the names slowly and deliberately.

“Oh, my God!” I feel as if the breath has been knocked out of me. “So my mother must know them?” I frown. “How did Syd and Ivan finally get the information?”

“The old fashioned way,” Oleksi says with a half smile. “Ivan distracted the manager while Syd helped herself to the woman’s computer.”

I stare at him suspiciously. I know there is a double meaning. “She wasn’t hurt was she?”

“Not if you call being seduced by Ivan hurt.” Oleksi laughs. “He is a handsome brute.”

I nod. “Why was my mother in their hotel suite?” I bite my lip. “The photo Tara had of Anya and now this—how is it all connected?”

“Syd also found that the front desk clerk at the hotel lied,” Oleksi tells me. “A woman named Mariya Morozova had signed in the night your mother’s phone was left there.”

That makes my heart jolt. “Isn’t Mariya Anaya’s daughter that died thirty years ago?” My brow furrows in confusion.

“Yes.” Oleksi nods. “Seems she came back from the dead to meet with your mother.”

“Or kidnap her…” My eyes dart to his. “Along with your Aunt, Nik, and Mark.”

A soft knock at the door draws both our attention as it opens and a young female doctor enters, dressed in pale blue scrubs, her light brown hair tucked into a sleek bun. She gives me a reassuring smile before her eyes briefly flicker to Oleksi—she scans giving him that look. Her gaze isn’t subtle. It lingers too long, her interest clear.

Jealousy stabs unexpectedly sharp in my gut, and I sit up a little straighter despite the pain.

“Hello, Mrs. Mirochin. Welcome back. You gave your husband quite the scare,” she says, flipping through a digital tablet. My head jerks toward Oleksi. He shrugs and flashes me a smile that is anything but apologetic.

Mrs. Mirochin? Wife? That’s how he was able to consent to them taking my blood! Bastard! But I can’t help how good it feels to be called his wife nor the smug look I know must now be on my face as I stare at the doctor. Yes bitch he’s mine . But only until three p.m. tomorrow the little voice at the back of my head reminds me and I start to feel giddy again.

“It’s good to see you’ve finally joined us,” the doctor continues. “You were out for quite some time. So we ran a few tests.”

“Is everything okay with my wife?” Oleksi asks, his tone smooth as silk.

She nods. “Oh yes.” A smile spreads across her lips as her eyes hold Oleksi’s and I want to fly off the bed and slap her pretty face.

I shake this suddenly territorial flair off— what the fuck Sabrina. Since when did you start being the jealous possessive type? That little voice deep from within my soul whispers back, since you found yourself head over heels in love with the big brute of a Bratva prince!

Her next words pull me back from my murderous thoughts. “There were elevated levels of hCG.” The doctor glances from Oleksi to me, her smile growing like the purple striped cat in Alice in Wonder—I didn’t like him either. I’m also so irritated by the woman I don’t realize what she’s just said. “And I believe congratulations are in order.”

I stiffen as I realize where this is going— fuck, fuck, fuck!

“What?” Oleksi and I say at the same time.

“You’re pregnant.” She says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Then turns those flirty eyes with the camel length eyelashes to Oleksi. “You’re going to be a daddy…” She looks pointedly at my little girl snuggled close to Oleksi’s hard chest as content as a bee in honey. “Again.”

“He’s n…” I start to say but Oleksi cuts me off.

“Are you sure?” He stares at the doctor in stunned disbelief.

She nods. “Not very far along.” Her gaze returns to me. “That’s probably why the nipple clamp caused you to faint. Early pregnancy often comes with heightened sensitivity.”

Jesus fucking hell. Oleksi told her! I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

“Pregnant,” Oleksi mutters and goes completely still beside me.

I can actually feel him processing the words, but I can’t bring myself to look at him yet. I’m too busy pretending I’m just as shocked as he is. Which I am. It’s one thing for two stripes on a few pregnancy tests—it’s possible it could still be a false positive. Unlikely, but possible. But blood tests? That’s a positive that says—this is fucking real Sabrina—this time there is a baby growing in your belly.

“Pregnant?” He says again, his voice cracks slightly, something I’ve never heard from him.

“Yes,” the doctor confirms, turning back to me. “Have you had other symptoms? Breast tenderness? Abdominal cramping during sex?”

“She’s had some pain,” Oleksi answers before I can stop him. “Last night when I was inside her.” His warm hand reaches out and takes mine. Take that bitch. I curl my hand into his, the instant anger at him volunteering our sex life to the doctor vanishing at his touch. “That’s not normal.”

But the heat of embarrassment still scorches my cheeks. Oh my god.

“I see,” the doctor says with a polite nod. “Would you mind if I do a quick exam?” This time she asks me but her eyes slip back to Oleksi.

“No, I’m sure I’m fine,” my words come out fast before he can answer.

“Yes, please,” Oleksi tells her, completely overriding my consent and as the flirty doctor thinks he’s my husband she gives him a smile then walks to the closet.

I give him a pleading look, silently begging him to say no, but he only rises and shifts Elena in the sling so he can stay close without hovering.

The next thing I know, I’m in a hospital gown, my legs in stirrups, my bare ass exposed to the cold air, and my Bratva prince sitting ten feet away with my baby girl strapped to his chest while a stranger probes my cervix.

The doctor finally straightens, removing her gloves and disposing of them in the bin. “She’s fine,” she says, addressing Oleksi like I’m not even in the room anymore. “No tearing, no bleeding, but some noticeable irritation. I’ll prescribe a topical cream and prenatal supplements. She’ll likely feel more sensitive than usual, so take things gently for a while.”

Her eyes flick to me with a wink that makes me wish I had the power to vanish into thin air. Then I could run like hell, especially after she says, “First pregnancies are always the worst.”

Oh my fucking God! I forgot that doctors can tell these things. Uh-oh.

My eyes dart to Oleksi. His expression is unreadable. But I know him well enough now to see the fire behind his eyes. His world has shifted again—and not in a small way as his mind is churning.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice low, his shoulders stiff.

The doctor is called away, and she promises us that a nurse will be in shortly with instructions and the prescription.

As the door clicks closed behind her, the room falls into an awkward, pulsing silence.

My eyes meet Oleksi’s and he’s staring at me with a look that could strip paint from the wall.