Page 37 of Konstantin (Marinov Bratva #1)

“Konstantin…I…” She glances down, her head shaking, her fingers playing with the fabric of her nightgown.

“I wouldn’t be a good mother.” Her laugh is small, almost sad, and it tears me apart to hear it.

“My mother wasn’t much of a role model. I…

I don’t even know the first thing about being a mother, let alone a good one. ”

Relief fills me at her confession. Because she didn’t say she’d never want to have a family with me.

“The question wasn’t if you’d be a good one, which I know you would be, Tessa.” I cup her chin and tilt her face to me. “I asked if you’ve ever thought about having a family. With me.”

Her eyes grow wide, and she swallows roughly, unable to answer.

“I get it. My father was never much of a father, as you know. He showed me what I didn’t want to be, yet somehow became, so I never wanted kids either. But now…” I pause, considering what I’m saying. “Now, with you…I’m not so sure anymore.”

Her palm falls across my shoulder, fingers tightening against my skin, her features tortured and full of quiet pain. I kiss her forehead, my mouth remaining there for a few seconds before I pull back, trying to soothe the fear in her.

“We can figure this out together.” The conviction in my tone surprises even me.

“And what if we can’t?”

I pull her closer, my lips brushing against her temple. “All we can do is try. Our child would have the best parts of each of us.” My fingers caress softly down her arm. “And the worst parts too, probably.”

A small, genuine laugh tumbles from her. “Yes, probably.”

She fastens her gaze with mine, something tender flickering there, something that grips tight around my heart and won’t let go. Lifting her hand, she brushes the stubble along my jaw with a slow, thoughtful stroke.

“I think you’d actually be a good dad.” The honesty in her tone rips something open in me.

With a groan, my mouth lowers and I kiss her, gently at first, before the kiss deepens, the intensity rising between us.

“Fuck…” My forehead slants against hers. “Go to sleep, Tessa.” Every word is rough with desire. “Before I keep you up all night.”

She chuckles, and I sense the tension in her ease as she nestles into me, her head resting on my chest as I reach over to turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. She burrows into me, her breaths calming me as she drifts off.

I lie awake for a while after she falls asleep, just listening to her steady exhales, thinking about everything. About her. About us. Wondering if there really could be a future for us and what this would mean for the future of my empire.

Then, just as I start to close my eyes, a low groan slips out from her lips. Her body tenses, stirring a bit as she mutters something I can’t make out. She must be having a dream or a nightmare.

I hold her tighter, trying to calm her, my hand running up and down her arm. “Tessa. It’s just a dream. It’s okay.”

But the groaning continues, growing louder, more frantic. She starts mumbling, but I can’t make out the words, though the distress in her voice is clear. I flick on the bedside lamp, a warm glow cutting through the dark.

“Tessa.” I shake her gently, trying to pull her from whatever hell she’s trapped in. “Wake up.”

Her eyes flutter open. Confusion floods them at first, her exhales quick as she sits up.

When she blinks again, reality clicks back into place.

Still, her chest heaves like she’s run miles.

And all I can do is hold her, tighter than before, as if I can chase away whatever shadows tried to steal her from me.

“Are you alright?” Tugging her to my chest, I lay us back down.

She sighs and relaxes against my chest, her hand finding its way to my bicep.

“It’s just a dream,” she says, her voice still shaky. “One I’ve been having since I was younger. Except…” She can barely get the words out.

“What is it?”

She peers up at me, gaze searching mine, like she’s trying to decide whether to trust me with whatever it is she’s holding back .

“I promise, whatever you have to say is safe with me.”

For a moment, she closes her eyes, her lips trembling as if the words are too heavy to say out loud.

“I don’t think it’s a dream,” she breathes, barely audible. “Whatever I’m seeing…I think it actually happened. And now my mind’s trying to make me remember.”

I gently trace her arm, trying to relax her. “What is it about?”

She pauses, her mouth pressed into a thin line.

“I was little, hiding in a closet. Two men were arguing, one shouting at the other while my mother cried in the background. Then suddenly, I hear a gunshot. It was so loud. I can still…” Her lashes flutter shut.

“I can still feel my fear. See myself covering my ears, thinking it was all over.”

She drags in a shaky inhale as she continues. “When the door opened, I thought the man would kill me. But instead, he reached for me. And I went with him even when I didn’t want to. That’s it. That’s all I remember.”

A cold knot tightens in my stomach as her words sink in. My mind races, trying to piece it together. If one of those men hurt her, I’ll make them suffer for what they did.

The fact that she could’ve been hurt… It fuels an intense desire to protect her, to shield her from everything, to make sure nothing ever hurts her again.

“And you think all of that was real?”

She nods, and I can see how much she believes it. “It feels like it’s connected to something bigger. Something I can’t remember, but need to.” She pauses, her eyes getting lost in thought before her attention returns to me. “My shrink thinks I should see a hypnotist. Do you think that’s stupid?”

I consider it for a moment. “The mind’s complicated. If it helps, why not? You have nothing to lose.”

She finally relaxes, the tension in her body easing as a small, uncertain smile tugs at her lips .

“Okay. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’ll help.” She pats my chest. “Good chat,” she adds, her tone a little lighter now. “I’ll make the appointment.”

“See how well this marriage is going already?” A smirk twitches at my lips.

She elbows me in my stomach, and I chuckle, playfully grunting.

“Ouch. You’re tough for a tiny thing.”

“I’m not tiny,” she snaps, narrowing her eyes at me.

My grin widens, relishing the way she challenges me, the fire in her. “Yes, I remember. I’m just a big guy.”

Before she can speak, I flip her beneath me, caging her in with my body. My weight hovers just above hers, every muscle throbbing with need.

“What are you doing?” she breathes, the sound catching as I roll my hips between her thighs, aching to be inside her, wanting to make her forget everything that makes her hurt.

“Breaking you.” My words are barely more than a growl against her throat, my hand slipping between us, feeling the warmth of her cunt, how wet she is for me already.

I slide my curled fingers inside her, teasing her just enough to make her squirm.

Her nails claw into my back, dragging me closer as I kiss along her jaw, lingering there, tasting her skin.

I grab her hips, flipping her onto her stomach and pulling her legs apart, holding her open and helpless.

Rising on my knees, I catch her gaze from over her shoulder.

One brutal thrust drives me deep into her pussy, and the sound she makes shreds what’s left of my control.

The room explodes into motion. Filled with grunts, gasps, the sharp slap of skin against skin. We’re chaos and hunger and passion, clashing like we were built to destroy each other and love each wrecked piece in the aftermath.

She arches beneath me, wild and furious, and I match her with every ruthless stroke.

This isn’t just sex. It’s war. It’s worship. It’s everything I’ve ever craved.

And everything I never thought I’d have.