Page 21 of Forced & Pregnant Bratva Bride (Tarasov Bratva #13)

I lay in bed the next morning, my mind flooded with memories of the previous night. His gentle voice still echoed in my head, along with his comforting words, even though he was struggling with his humanity half the time.

With my head toward the ceiling, I reminisced on the feeling of his hands on me and the way he carried me in his arms. It was like Egor was a whole new person—and honestly, I liked that version of him.

He was more human last night than he’d ever been since I arrived here. I saw a glimpse of a better man, one willing to care for the mother of his unborn child, no matter the price. He took on a different form so that he could reach me and help with my trauma.

There was something else in his eyes when I looked at him—when we held each other’s gazes. Something lighter, more compassionate—something human. At that moment, I couldn’t find the monster that I knew he was; there were still traces, of course, but buried beneath the surface.

He was almost…soft with me last night. Like he genuinely cared about my feelings. Egor listened to me—he really listened—without judgment or condemnation. He even made a joke to lighten up the mood a little—make it less intense.

Our conversation last night was the first real one we had, free of our usual banter, threats, curses, and unnecessary anger. It was just two adults talking—trying to understand each other.

I didn’t feel hatred for him, didn’t resent him, nor was I repulsed by his touch. No. For the first time, I saw past the monster; I saw the man buried deep inside—the human with emotions and feelings. I felt drawn to him.

My heartbeat was steady, and so was my pulse. I wasn’t anxious, I wasn’t mad, nor was I even frustrated. I was just… calm. I felt so peaceful talking to him, opening up about a trauma that I was always so ashamed to face.

Why did I tell him? Why?

There was no logical answer to that question except that, somehow, I knew I could. It was as if my heart and his were connected at that moment. I could swear that last night, Egor felt my pain more personally.

His words echoed in my head: “Losing a loved one can be hard….”

I saw it in his gaze that he could relate when I talked about losing my mother.

It was clear as crystal that he, too, had dealt with a loss—one that cut so deep it left a scar.

There was a story somewhere there, and although I was curious to hear it, I knew last night was not the best time to talk about it.

Considering how messed up I was after the falcon’s screech, I should be dwelling on my trauma. But thankfully, I wasn’t. What I was dwelling on was the man slowly slithering his way into my heart.

He had his men beat Liam so badly that the poor boy ended up in the hospital. Because of that, I should hate him. I shouldn’t feel so safe around him—not after that cruel stunt he pulled. Yet, here I was, seeing him in a different light.

I was still a prisoner, and he was still my jailer. That was a fact. But then, why did my heart always leap inside me whenever I saw him? Why did a flutter rise in my chest and butterflies in my stomach when he was near me?

Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him—his touch, his voice, and even the time he claimed my body?

I had tried on several occasions to get him out of my mind, and on several occasions, I failed. How difficult could it be to hate someone, especially a man like Egor?

Pretty difficult, obviously.

This turmoil inside me was a sign. And not a good one. At all.

I wasn’t born yesterday. I recognized those feelings, those emotions. I’d felt them once or twice before, and I knew exactly what they meant.

However, I was too afraid to face the truth, too afraid to even name what I felt.

I told myself that whatever this was, it was not real, that I was delusional.

I had to lie to myself because it was the only way that I could sleep at night.

It was the only way I wouldn’t hate the woman I was becoming.

I lay on my side, clutching a pillow to my chest as a thousand thoughts crowded in my mind. In my entire life, I’d never been more confused—I was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, and there was no one to save me.

Was it possible that the baby in my womb was the reason for this attraction? I was pulled to him like a moth to a flame because there was something of his growing inside me?

I placed my hand over my lower belly and shut my eyes, a mix of emotions coursing through my veins. I felt almost every emotion there was to feel, everything but anger. It was as though I no longer had the strength to fight; this was a losing battle anyway.

Egor was right. The only way out of here was in a casket.

This was my new reality, and the sooner I accepted it, the better.

The situation had escalated; it was bigger than just me now.

A bunch of other innocent lives were involved: my siblings and the child growing inside me.

That said, I couldn’t afford to be clumsy.

I couldn’t afford to cause a scandal that would endanger all those now connected to this.

Maybe…just maybe, my life wouldn’t be so bad if I let it play the way it was supposed to. Things were already starting to fall in place, or at least, they looked like they were.

What if Egor wasn’t as terrible as he let everyone believe? What if there was still some atom of humanity left inside him—just a little thread that I could tug at? Shouldn’t I be willing to take that chance, considering that I had no other options?

I heaved a sigh, rubbing my palm over my belly. This pregnancy had changed everything—for better or worse. I guess I’d have to wait and find out.

The door creaked open, and the scent of his cologne filled the air inside our bedroom. His boots clicked against the floor as he approached the bed.

My heart skipped a beat, and my jaw clenched as if to brace myself. A bundle of folded clothes landed on me—tossed from his direction. Flinching at the sudden hit, I turned around to face him.

Looming over the bed, he stood there with a hand in his pocket. His black shirt was neatly tucked into a pair of black pants, and his polished shoes seemed to gleam in the lights.

“Get dressed,” he said, “you’re coming with me.”

“Wh-what?” I stuttered, blinking rapidly.

He gave me the look that said he wasn’t going to repeat himself.

“Wait, you mean like…right now?”

Still no response.

I blew a raspberry and grudgingly got out of bed.

***

We drove to the woods as morning light streamed through the trees in fractured beams. Mist still clung to the ground like breath that hadn’t settled. The cold breeze rustled pine needles overhead as I stepped out of the black SUV and looked around. All I saw were trees. Lots of them.

He walked over to the trunk, and as he pulled out a matte black case, I followed him, gravel crunching under my boots.

“What’re we doing here?” I asked, my ears picking up the faint, eerie crack of a branch cracking in the distance.

“We…” he set the case on the hood, “...are here to train.”

My brows arched in surprise. “Train?”

“Get over here.”

I frowned at his tone and hesitated—half from nerves, half from defiance. However, I had no choice but to obey.

He opened the case. A pistol lay nestled in dark foam beside a polished combat knife. Clean. Unforgiving.

I glanced down at the gun, then raised my head to look at him, confused. “Uh…wh—what’s this? What’s going on here?”

“You’re carrying my child,” he said, tone dry, expression flat. “And that already puts a giant bullseye on your back. You need to learn to defend yourself.” He picked up the gun, checked it, and then offered it to me handle-first. “That’s why we’re here.”

My gaze dropped to the weapon in his hand, my heart racing in my chest.

“Take it,” he said.

I swallowed hard, my fingers closing around the grip. The damn thing was heavier than I expected. Cold, too. “You just handed me a loaded gun. You think that’s wise?” I teased, attempting to ease the tension a little.

“What’re you gonna do, shoot me?”

I shrugged, a faint smirk playing on my lips as I scanned the surrounding area. “Well, we’re in the middle of nowhere. Can’t say I’m not considering it.”

He scoffed, absently scratching his eyebrow. “I’ll worry about that once you learn to pull the trigger.”

I lowered my head, pushing some stray strands of hair behind my ear. For some reason, this little banger stirred up something in me, something I couldn’t even dare to name.

He moved behind me before I could even blink, his imposing frame towering over me: quiet, dangerous, and solid. His palms brushed against my shoulders, and I felt the heat of him through my sweater.

“Safety’s here.” He tapped it. “Don’t pull the trigger unless you’re ready to fire.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest.

“Your stance is wrong,” he said softly, adjusting my feet with a nudge of his boot.

I felt him lean in from behind, his breath warm against my skin, his hands coming around with fingers brushing my hips. Like a sculptor molding stubborn clay, Egor repositioned me.

“You’re tense,” he whispered almost directly in my ear. “Don’t be.”

Again, I swallowed hard, breath hitched in my throat as I struggled to calm the fuck down.

“Aim—raise your arm.”

I did.

“Tighten your grip.”

I did that too.

“Now, breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

I practiced what he said, my hands trembling subtly. Firing the gun was a problem considering how much my hands trembled. Plus, the muzzle bobbed.

Without a word, he wrapped one hand around my waist, and with the other, he guided the barrel with the steadiness of a man who’d done this a thousand times over.

“Don’t fight the recoil,” he said. “Let it move through you.”

I drew in a deep, long breath, the world blurring into the background, leaving just me and him. I was holding the gun, and he was holding me.

Egor pressed in just enough for his chest to graze my back. “You see that tree over there?” He pointed at one directly across from me. “Imagine that’s your worst enemy. Block out every distraction. And then, fire.”

A few days ago, he was my worst enemy. But now, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

I aimed at the tree and then….

Bang!

The crack echoed through the woods, the force pushing me a step back. My eyes widened in surprise, a sudden laugh falling from my lips. “Oh, my God, did you see that!” I exclaimed, adrenaline coursing through my blood.

He chuckled, fingers digging into shoulders in a massaging motion. “Pump the brakes, princess. That’s just the first step.”

“Real sunshine, aren’t you?” I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “You just had to kill the vibe.”

“Let’s try that one,” he said, pointing at an old metal can hanging off a tree branch. “Hit that target, and I just might let you rejoice.”

I adjusted my stance, aimed with deadly precision, and then squeezed the trigger. The gunshot rang out, the metal can spinning from the branch.

Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I was going to hit it. But I did. “Ha ha!” I chuckled, turning around and expecting to catch the look of disappointment in his gaze.

However, what I saw etched on his face was pride.

“Not bad,” he said. “You’re a quick learner.”

“You’re not such a bad teacher yourself,” I said, trying to sound modest.

His lips curled into a small smirk, his dark eyes pinned on me.

Again, I felt it—that strange flutter in my chest, stirred up by the intensity of his gaze. The air was starting to shift to something a bit more…affectionate, and the silence seemed to stretch on forever.

“Well,” I said, clearing my throat. “I can pull the trigger now. So I guess you should start worrying.”

He laughed—a soft, genuine sound that warmed my heart. “I should, shouldn’t I?”

I held his gaze, the air thick with something we weren’t ready to name.

Then he looked away and gestured toward the knife.

“Now let’s see what you can do with this bad boy.” He picked it up and spun the blade around his fingers with practiced ease.