Page 31 of Forced By the Obsessed Bratva (Yezhov Bratva #8)

Six Months Later

Come on, faster.

I saw sunlight pouring through the windows, catching in her hair, and highlighting each strand like golden-honey thread. We were much younger and very unaware of the true evil this world nurtured.

We lay on the living room floor, our legs kicking in the air, giggling over silly nonsense no one else could understand. She drew stars on my arms with her glitter pen and said they’d protect me when she couldn’t. I believed her. I always did.

After all, whether we went through a terrible fight or even got close enough to pull each other’s hair or scratch our eyes out, it was always Yulia and me in the end.

She snuck me cookies before dinner, pressed a finger to her lips like we were part of some spy mission. And when it rained, she grabbed my hand, and we ran outside barefoot, spinning in the downpour like wild things with no fear.

Just our laughter ringing out.

Just her voice calling, “Come on, faster!” and my heart racing to keep up.

Then, she was no longer there, almost like she vanished. I raced in the darkness, unable to see anything or anyone.

“Yulia?”

My frightened voice echoed in the darkness, and although I wanted to stop and catch my breath, my legs refused to pause. They just kept moving, running and running, as if something was chasing me. I saw the looming shadows closing in and felt a long-lasting sense of foreboding.

In an instant, the darkness flickered, brightening with each second as orange and yellow flames appeared. What was once warm became scorching, exceeding a thousand degrees.

It felt like I was slowly melting away, and the only thing I could scream was, “Help!”

But no one heard. No one came.

And then—

Thunder cracked.

I jerked awake, throwing a hand to my heaving chest. The room flashed white from lightning streaks outside. It was a real storm, gray and dark, ripping the sky wide open. And Yulia was gone.

The wind rattled the windows like fists pounding to be let in, and thunder rolled through the house in heavy, stubborn waves. I gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles white, breathing shallow.

Another sharp crack of lightning tore the sky in half, bathing the room in electric light for a second before darkness swallowed it whole again.

My baby kicked hard against my stomach. Six months later, and its kick was a lot stronger than ever.

Each passing month, my movements had become heavier, and my breathing had become more labored. But it wasn’t my baby’s weight that made sleep impossible.

It was the dreams— no, nightmares . They were haunting. Sometimes, like tonight, it always ended with the flames engulfing me. Other times, I just kept running.

But each night, Yulia came back, either as a child or an adult. Some nightmares weren’t completely traumatizing.

Others were. With blood blooming across her shirt like a dark, red flower. Her eyes wide. Her mouth moving, but no sound. And always…always Rurik standing behind her, knife in hand, face twisted in ugly scorn.

Like tonight, I would jolt awake, hand on my stomach, heart slamming like a warning alert. The first time I’d had the nightmare, I screamed and thrashed around in bed until Matvey pulled me into him and buried my head on his chest.

Some nights, I lay still for hours, trying to feel the baby kick. Trying to remember how to breathe without shattering.

I pressed a hand to my belly, trying to calm us both, but my heart was pounding like a thousand drums beating in an irregular synchrony.

I pushed myself off the bed and moved to the window, needing some air and clarity.

Outside, the trees bent like they were being punished, their limbs clawing at the wind. Shadows stretched long across the courtyard, writhing as lightning repetitively split the sky in violent bursts. The wild and turbulent storm mirrored everything inside me.

It hurt deeply knowing that a person could decide to take another’s life, just to fulfil their own desires.

Hearing of murders wasn’t anything new, especially in our present world, where people take matters into their own hands. But it was different when your loved one was a victim of someone’s selfishness.

I still couldn’t believe that Yulia had died at the hands of her husband. The same man who vowed to take care of her.

My fingers dug into the windowsill.

I wanted to scream, to break something, to tear through the confusion and pain that dragged me under a tumultuous wave. But I just stood there, breathing like I was drowning, watching the world express rage with me.

This storm had no mercy, and neither did Rurik.

The thought made my mind drift off to Matvey. That night, he’d let Rurik be, but to date, he still hadn’t said what fate he had decided for him.

Without any warning, the door creaked open, and I didn’t realize I was shaking until my husband stepped inside.

The familiar scent of soap and cologne was a dead giveaway.

I turned my back to the storm to stare at him. He looked clean in a fresh T-shirt and snug sweatpants that hugged his frame perfectly.

As usual, he didn’t say anything. Just stood there for a moment, and looked at me like he was trying to decipher encrypted codes.

“Another nightmare?” he asked.

I nodded.

It was raining cats and dogs, and yet, Matvey’s calm unsettled me more than the chaos outside. When he crossed the room and stopped in front of me, I flinched.

Stupid, but I did.

His fingers brushed my arm, light as a breath and smooth as a feather. “It’s just a storm,” he said, and looked at me almost gently.

I let out a breath I hadn’t meant to hold. “It’s not the storm,” I whispered. My throat tightened. “It’s everything that happened. Even this moment. It all feels…too fragile.”

His hand slid down to mine. “Then we hold it together,” he said. “Even if it breaks.”

“How do you do it?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Matvey’s brows arched. “How do I do what?”

“Act like nothing gets to you? You’re just always unfazed. Doesn’t any of this bother you?”

“A lot more than you know or understand.”

His answer was unexpected, too quick and brutally honest.

“But you don’t act like it.”

His lips quirked, and I wasn’t sure if he made an attempt to smile, but whatever it was looked more like a grimace than anything else.

“Unlike most people, we weren’t taught to wear our hearts on our sleeves.”

“Or to have hearts, at all.”

It was a reckless blurt, and I regretted saying it the second it was out of my mouth. I was still so angry at Rurik, but didn’t want to redirect that rage to Matvey.

“I’m so—”

“Hush. Don’t apologize, Zoella.” His grip on my arm tightened slightly as he pulled me closer to his chest. “Come.”

He led me away from the window, with his hand firm on the small of my back.

My knees buckled, and he caught me without a word, easing me down onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath our weight. Well, mostly mine.

And he sat closer than he needed to. I didn’t flinch or pull back; instead, I welcomed it.

“I know that these past months haven’t been the best. And I know saying it like that is merely putting it lightly. But, for what it’s worth, I’m here with you, okay?”

I leaned into him, and his warmth bled into me, cancelling the noise rattling inside my chest.

“You don’t have to ever apologize for feeling rage, especially if it’s justified.” He spoke calmly and slowly slipped his fingers into my hair. “Let it all out whenever you want. I don’t mind.”

I shuddered, relishing in the feel of his hands on me.

“I’m not the best person to have heart-to-hearts with, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand your grief.” He pulled me closer yet again, and I felt the heat of his breath on my forehead when he gently said, “I do.”

My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, and I gripped tight. Matvey didn’t pull away. If anything, he shifted closer, his arm brushing mine as the heat between us brewed with a thicker intensity.

And I felt my fingers tremble, but this time not from fear, but anticipation.

I couldn’t stop shaking.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice low, meant only for me. “I’m here.”

I looked up and into his eyes, and accidentally got lost in them. “I needed to be sure that you feel this too.”

At this moment, I wasn’t sure what exactly “ this ” meant. It could be the pain of Rurik’s betrayal and my sister’s demise or…something else.

Because my heart was thrashing like crazy, and the ringing in my ears sounded more like sirens now.

I hadn’t meant to say it, but the words slipped out anyway, so I might as well finish what I started.

“I’ve needed you through all of this. I’m angry, hurt, confused, and scared, Matvey. But I don’t think…I don’t—I can’t face it without you.”

For a second, I thought he hadn’t heard me. He just stared.

Then something shifted in his eyes, like a dam giving way.

Before I could blink, his hand reached up, fingers weaving into my hair, while the other cupped my cheek so gently, like I might shatter.

I barely had time to breathe or say another word before his mouth covered mine.

Despite myself, my eyelids fluttered shut automatically, and I released a satisfied groan into his mouth.

He tasted so good, I wanted more. I parted my lips and he eagerly delved deeper into my mouth, sucking on my tongue and making love to my lips, while I held on to his shirt for dear life.

I tried to move, to match his energy and rhythm, but Matvey devoured me, hot and hungry, like he’d been holding his desire in for too long and couldn’t hold back anymore.

I melted into him. The fear, the storm, the noise—they all cracked and fell away. All that was left was him, and the way he kissed me like I was a precious treasure he’d almost lost.

I was already growing wet between my legs, and my nipples peaked beneath my nightdress.

Shit.

I wanted him, and I wanted him so badly, my heart felt like it would burst.

I arched my neck backward, secretly granting him permission I knew he didn’t need to take full control. To ravage me, eat me out, destroy me, until I lay bare in his arms, completely spent but satisfied.

My need for this man grew quickly into an unhealthy obsession with every flick of his tongue on my nape and down my collarbone.

My skin sang for him, and the rest of me couldn’t wait to feel his hardness buried deep between my thighs.

I pressed into him, our lips parting as the kiss deepened for just a heartbeat.

His hands slid along my sides, gathering me closer, and I felt his breath hitch sharply.

Then he pulled back, his chest heaving. I caught the edge of frustration in the set of his jaw and the fierce tension in his gaze.

“What?” I searched his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t say anything.

My hand went to my belly, reacting instinctively as I noticed his eyes flicker down to the curve hidden beneath my nightdress.

Unashamedly, I puckered my lips, feeling the cold set back in. “Matvey, I don’t want to stop. I want you.”

His lips twitched, as though he was trying to curse or plead, or maybe both. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he rasped, voice jagged with raw emotion.

Silently, he drew me back against him again, pressing his forehead to mine.

I could feel the heat through his shirt and hear the rapid beat of his heart pounding in his chest.

He trembled against me, and I knew he was torn between wanting me, yet holding himself in check. Somehow, his restraint and show of concern for our baby made my heart soar.

I closed my eyes, feeling the world narrow to the press of his body and the storm crackling between both outside and between us.

I turned my face into his shoulder. There was a burden pressing heavily in my heart that needed to be offloaded, and I made the decision to spill before I changed my mind.

“Don’t let go. I don’t want you to let go, Matvey. Not now or ever. I’m glad you’re here, and I don’t think I can pretend anymore that I don’t care. I feel something real when I think about you. I…I’ve been trying to fight it, but it’s you. It’s always been you.”

I looked up at him, surprised to find his eyes wide and shining, as if he was seeing me for the first time and finally understanding.

“I feel it too,” he breathed and kissed my forehead. There was a pause before he started speaking again and—

“I love you.”

Oh, okay—whoa!

He loves me?

Matvey loves…?

Is that it?

But it is, isn’t it?

All this time, I’d been in love with Matvey Yezhov too, and didn’t even know it.

Dumbfounded, I blinked and he laughed. It was so deep and genuine; I found it incredibly sexy and wanted to hear it again.

“You love me?”

He wrinkled his nose and mellowed his laughter to a smile. “I mean, should I not? Who knows? It could just be a sixty-second feeling.”

I lightly slapped his chest and wrapped my arms around him before I could cry.

“Not the best at having a good sense of humor. But I love you too, Matvey Yezhov.”

Smirking, he rolled his eyes and looked out the window.

The storm could’ve torn the roof off, and I wouldn’t have noticed. All I could feel was him, and I didn’t think I ever wanted to let go.