Page 114 of Forced plus-size Bride of the Bratva

She watches me like she’s waiting for me to be mad.

“Don’t apologize,” I say before she can. “Babe, stop apologizing to me. You’re carrying our baby. If sandalwood makes you gag, I’ll burn the damn bottle.”

She giggles and yawns, falling into my arms. “I’m tired. Sooo sleepy.”

I guide her toward the table and gently sit her down. “Nope. Not yet. You need to eat before you go back upstairs and hibernate like a pregnant bear.”

She narrows her eyes but lets me tuck the napkin over her lap. I load her plate with the only things she’ll touch this week—scrambled eggs, toast with strawberry jam, and diced mangoes.

“This mango is warm,” she says, inspecting a piece suspiciously.

I take it from her and pop it into my own mouth. “Then I’ll get you a cold one. No warm mango on my watch.”

Her lips twitch. “You’re annoying.”

“And yet…here I am.” I lean down, kissing the side of her neck—far, far from the sandalwood zone.

She hums. Eats. Bit by bit. I don’t leave her side. Not until she’s scraped most of the plate and sipped her juice.

“Okay, now you can sleep.” I’m already in front of her, crouching slightly. “Come on.”

She frowns. “Adrian, no. I’m too heavy now. Don’t—”

It’s the same argument every time. I lift her into my arms like she weighs nothing.

“You’re not heavy. You’re just right.” I kiss her cheek. “Besides, this is why I train every morning. Not for Bratva intimidation. For you.”

She lets out a laugh against my shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously strong. Ridiculously obsessed. Ridiculously in love.”

She doesn’t argue. Just nestles against me and sighs, a soft, contented sound that makes my chest ache in the best way.

I carry her up the stairs, nodding at the two guards outside the hall door. They look away like they’re not amused, but I can see the slight smirk on one of their faces.

Inside our bedroom, I place her gently on the bed. She stretches out like she’s melting into the sheets, one hand absently resting on her belly.

I kneel beside the bed, brushing hair from her forehead. “Anything else you need,malyshka?”

She hums. “Just you. Right there.” She taps the space beside her. “But I might fall asleep in five seconds.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait until you do.”

I climb into bed and pull the blanket over her, tucking it around her with reverence. She’s halfway asleep already, lashes fluttering, fingers curled against my chest.

I watch her until her breathing evens out before slipping away from under her and hurrying out to attend to my business of the day.

Zalar nods at me outside the room. “Your 9 a.m.’s been waiting since breakfast.”

“I’m coming.”

The hall is quiet, the sun just beginning to warm the marble floors as I make my way to my office. My lawyer, Grigori,rises as I enter, all crisp lines and cold calculation wrapped in a three-piece suit.

“Boss,” he greets with a shallow nod.

I motion for him to sit. “Let’s get to it.”

He opens the slim black briefcase in front of him and lays the papers out, neat and clean and lethal in what they mean. “The documents are just as you instructed. All of it.”