Page 25 of Pregnant Bratva Wife (Vadim Bratva #13)

I woke up and stayed curled up on Beatrice’s guest bed, watching the sunlight streaming in through the curtains.

It had been three days since I’d shown up at Beatrice’s. She had called right after I left Federico, and though I didn’t want to put her out, there was such gentleness in her voice, such pleading for me to be with her, that I saw no other option than to take her up on her offer.

Besides, there truly was nowhere else I could go. I had my best friend. Sure. But I had taken enough advantage of Chloe this year already.

I had shown up here, and Beatrice had opened the door like she’d been waiting for me. She probably had, after Federico called.

“You look like hell,” she had said gently. Then pulled me straight into a hug.

I wasn’t much of a hugger. But I sank into it anyway.

She didn’t ask what happened. She probably knew.

She just said, “Come on in. I’ve got leftover pasta and tiramisu.”

And that had been that.

It was only when I found myself curled up on her couch, two hours later, and with all the superficial small talk over with, that I let myself cry.

She didn’t push or prod. She just handed me tissues whenever I needed one and muttered things like “men are garbage” and “my brother especially.”

The next morning, she set up a little tray of breakfast for us both on the balcony. She did the same the morning after that. Always with that same breezy attitude—like I wasn’t temporarily wrecked, like she wasn’t tiptoeing around the broken mess of her idiot brother’s relationship.

I lay in bed for an hour after waking up. For some reason, the past few days had zapped all willpower out of my system. I felt constantly drained, as if all my energy had left the building.

Considering how I cried myself to sleep last night—again—I didn’t blame myself. Every night, I stayed up late, replaying every moment with Federico like a detective searching for clues I had missed.

How had I been so blind? How had I not seen that the entire disaster that led me to him had been a ploy?

He was in the fucking mob.

Of course, what happened between us wasn’t a coincidence. I wrecked his car. He offered me marriage. I turned him down.

He was a rich and powerful man.

And then the cash got stolen.

Of course, it wasn’t a case of bad timing.

I should have put two and two together.

I felt like a complete and utter fool.

The worst part wasn’t even the betrayal—it was the fact that somewhere deep in my chest, beneath all the anger and hurt, I still missed him.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

“Autumn?” Beatrice’s voice was gentle. “I made breakfast.”

“Coming,” I said, jerking out of my near-dead position.

When I dragged myself to the kitchen, Beatrice was sliding a perfect omelet onto a plate. She looked up and smiled.

“You look better today,” she said, which was a polite lie.

I had done nothing more than brush my teeth and knew I looked like something that had been hit by a truck.

“I look like death warmed over,” I replied, collapsing onto a barstool.

“Well, more alive than yesterday.” She pushed the plate toward me. “Eat. Food helps.”

I stared at the omelet—fluffy, golden, sprinkled with herbs—and felt my stomach turn. But Beatrice had been so kind, taking me in without question, that I forced myself to take a bite.

“It’s good,” I said, even though for some reason eating made me feel sick. “Thank you.”

“Don’t be silly,” she waved me off. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I promise I’ll start looking for a place soon. I can’t impose on you forever.”

Beatrice gave me a look that startlingly reminded me of her brother—a flash of intensity, a hint of stubbornness. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Beatrice—”

“No.” She held up a hand. “You’re like a sister to me, and you’re staying right now, and you need to stop with this threat of leaving.

I’ve got more than enough space. I love having you around.

And maybe someday you’ll leave, if he grovels enough and you decide he’s worth forgiving.

But right now, you’re my roommate, and I don’t intend to be deprived of your lovely company because my brother couldn’t figure out how to court a woman like a normal human being. ”

I almost smiled at that.

“He arranged everything,” I said quietly. “My financial problems. The threats. It was all him.”

“I know,” Beatrice sighed. “He told me everything. And trust me, I’ve torn him a new one over it. What he did was inexcusable.”

“But he’s your brother. Why are you being so nice to me?”

She looked surprised. “Because none of that was your fault. And because...” She hesitated.

“I’ve never seen him like this. For what it’s worth—and I know it’s not worth much right now—I think he genuinely cares about you.

You’re important to me, as is, but to him, too.

He’s been calling every day, and I need to make sure you’re doing okay, or he might bite my head off. ”

I scoffed. “He has a funny way of showing he cares.”

“The Lebedev men aren’t known for their emotional intelligence.” She took a sip of her coffee. “It’s like they learned how to express feelings from a manual written by a robot.”

That did make me laugh.

“There she is,” Beatrice smiled. “I knew you were still in there somewhere.”

I finished my breakfast in silence, trying to ignore the knot of emotions in my chest. I didn’t want to think about Federico caring. It made everything more complicated.

The next few days settled into a strange routine. Beatrice went to work while I stayed in the apartment, reading or watching mindless TV. She never pressured me to talk about Federico, but she didn’t shy away from mentioning him either.

A week later, I had just finished drying my hair when Beatrice knocked on my door, yelling, “Autumn, come out here. Now. It’s a surprise.”

I shut off the dryer. “Is it coffee?”

“Better.”

I padded out into the hallway barefoot—and stopped cold.

My sister stood in the doorway, a duffel bag at her feet, her face lighting up with the biggest smile I’d seen in months. “Surprise!”

I ran to her, nearly knocking her over with the force of my hug. She laughed, squeezing me back just as tightly.

“What are you doing here?” I asked into her hair. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“Spring break,” she said, pulling back to look at me. “And I missed my big sister.”

“Just remember,” Beatrice declared as she gave Megan a playful glare. “Autumn is mine now. You can’t have her back.”

“But I’ve come to kidnap her!” Megan laughed and teased back.

“For the right price, maybe…” Beatrice winked.

“Hey!” I protested, giggling now, as I watched these two wonderful girls tease and argue.

God, it felt so normal. And for the first time in days, I felt happy.

Beatrice discreetly slipped away soon after, and I pulled Megan onto the couch, bombarding her with questions. How did she find me? How long was she staying? How were her classes?

“Slow down,” Megan laughed as she kicked off her shoes and pulled her feet up beneath her. “One question at a time.”

“How did you even know I was here?”

“Federico called me.” She bit her lower lip, like she knew we had had a fight or something.

“He what?” I hissed.

“He called a few days ago. Said you needed me,” she sighed. “He arranged everything—the flight, the taxi here. He even gave me extra spending money so we could do whatever we wanted while I’m here.”

I didn’t know what to say. Federico had reached out to Megan? After everything?

“Autumn,” Megan’s voice was gentle. “What happened between you two?”

I shook my head, not ready to get into it. “It’s complicated.”

“Federico didn’t say much, just that you were staying with his sister for a while and could use some company.” She hesitated. “He sounded... I don’t know. Sad, somehow. Different from when I talked to him before.”

When she talked to him…before? What did she mean by that?

Megan watched me carefully. “Want to tell me what he did?”

I sighed. God. How I wanted to tell her the truth. But something in my heart held me back.

This was my baby sister, and I knew the truth would only worry her.

Besides, I wasn’t ready yet to tell her what I had done: that I married a stranger, a mobster no less, to pay her tuition and our mom’s debts.

She’d have blamed herself and thought none of this would have happened if only she had dropped out.

I couldn’t have her live with that burden.

So, I lied. “We argued,” I sighed. “Nothing major.”

“Nothing major, but you moved out?” She cocked an eyebrow in my direction.

“Well, I moved into his sister’s house, didn’t I?” I fired back. If I were living with Beatrice, Megan would know it couldn’t have been that bad. “Besides. I don’t want to talk about it. Please. ”

My tactic worked, for Megan leaned forward and hugged me. “Oh, Autumn,” she sighed. “I once read that the first year of marriage is the hardest. He’s a nice man. I’m sure it’ll all be okay.”

“Thanks, Megs,” I said, though a lump formed in my throat. How simple this situation was in my sister’s head. If only that were the truth.

A small part of me longed for it all to be okay. An obstinate part of me refused to believe it could be.

We spent the rest of the day catching up, carefully avoiding the Federico-shaped elephant in the room. It wasn’t until that night, after Beatrice had gone to bed, that I remembered something Megan had said. Something I ignored.

“Hey, Megs?” I asked as we sipped our tea in the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“Earlier. You said you’ve spoken to Federico before. When? How?”

As far as I knew, Megan and Federico had never spoken.

Megan looked confused. “I thought you knew.” She leaned forward and took my hand. “He called me a couple of times to help coordinate some payments. Said he’s doing it because you asked. My tuition, housing, meal plan, insurance, everything.”

“What?” I nearly knocked over the cup of tea. “Since when?”