Page 3 of Pregnant Bratva Wife (Vadim Bratva #13)

She haunted me.

That was the only way to describe it.

From the moment Autumn Malone turned those impossibly blue eyes on me, I was hooked. And when she walked away, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

I knew how it might have looked to an outsider—that I saw a beautiful woman and turned into a man obsessed. But none of what I did had been about having her. There were plenty of other beautiful women I could have had.

No. It was her contradictions that got under my skin.

How fearful and apologetic and stuck she’d seemed in her situation, yet obstinate.

One where most women would have signed up for what I proposed.

But, despite having her back to the wall, she still chose to walk away.

She held her head high with pride and offered to pay me back in installments.

She told me no when every other woman I’d met would’ve jumped at the chance to be mine.

She told me she’d rather live in her car.

Who did that? Certainly, no one in my world.

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? That she wasn’t from my world. That she was so god damn different, that I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was a breath of fresh air in a very depraved, choked city.

That rejection? It didn’t anger me. Only made me more curious. So I did what I always did when I wanted something.

I moved heaven and hell to understand it. Understand her.

I dug deeper, picked up my phone again, and called Anton. “Find out everything you can about Autumn Malone.”

And when she called, I picked up without a second thought, knowing exactly why she was calling after a week had gone by. I waited for that call for nearly four days. Every time my phone rang, my heart was stuck, hoping for it to be her.

But it never was…until it was. And when I picked up, I wasn’t surprised that she called. In fact, I knew she would. Women like her—good, desperate women who truly had no other options—they always did, eventually. What surprised me was how good it felt to hear her voice.

I knew my plan worked the moment she asked if the offer still stood. I tried not to let her hear the smile on my face.

“How does tomorrow afternoon sound? The Coffee Bean on Michigan Avenue?” I’d asked her.

She agreed without a second thought. “I’ll be there.”

I couldn’t believe my plan had worked. Anton had called back and told me all he learned.

Autumn Malone was twenty-four years old with no other family apart from her younger sister, Megan.

While Megan was in college, Autumn had no college degree.

She worked temp jobs, tried to stay afloat, and loved her sister.

Their father died young. Mother? Two years ago.

Left debts. Huge debts. And Autumn wired $5,000 to her sister last week.

For the loan, of course. Megan withdrew it.

Probably to pay off the sharks. The cash had to be on her.

And for Autumn to call me? That cash needed to disappear.

Just last night, Anton called back. “Boss. The sister’s dorm room was hit this afternoon. We took the five grand, just as you said.”

And just like that, I had Autumn where I wanted her most. On a phone call with me, asking to meet.

Was it manipulative to have my men steal the loan payment from her sister’s dorm room? Definitely.

But I’d learned long ago that waiting for fate to deliver what you wanted was a fool’s game. Smart men made their own fate.

And I wanted Autumn Malone.

Not just for a night or a week, but permanently. As my wife.

Did I feel guilty about creating her crisis? Not particularly. I hadn’t created her problems; I’d simply accelerated the timeline. Those loan sharks would have come for her sister eventually.

And besides, I was offering her a solution that would solve all her problems at once.

Marriage to me meant security and a life of luxury she couldn’t begin to imagine. If I had to manipulate circumstances to get her to see reason, so be it.

***

I arrived at the coffee shop fifteen minutes early and chose a table in the back corner from where I could see the door.

I ordered black coffee and waited. The whole time, my heart raced. What if she changed her mind? What if she found someone else to call? What if…?

But to my relief, she arrived just in time.

God. She looked beautiful with her blonde hair pulled up into a sleek, high ponytail, highlighting her killer cheekbones. She had on some lip gloss that made her lips look pouty and delicious, and god, those jeans?

Fitted. Dangerous. I had half a mind to drag her back to my car, but I didn’t. Not yet.

She looked around nervously, tentatively, and on seeing me, I saw her stand a little straighter. Even from across the room, her eyes were like the ocean.

She walked over, and I could see her trying to hold her hands still. To not fidget. To not show how nervous she was.

I stood as she approached. “Autumn,” I said, by way of greeting.

“Hi.” Her voice sounded small, and she tried to smile at me. But it came out all weak.

“Come, sit,” I said gently, walking over to pull out a chair. She took it, but threw me a look over her shoulder. A look of surprise. Like she wasn’t used to men pulling chairs for her.

What kind of men had she been hanging around? Ungrateful ones, by the likes of it.

I took my seat and handed her a menu. “Coffee?”

“No.” She shook her head stiffly. “I want to get this over with.”

I signaled the barista anyway, ordering her a latte. I’d had her investigated; I knew her coffee preferences.

“You look tired,” I observed.

“Is that really what you want to talk about?” She leaned forward in frustration. “That I look tired? Let’s get to the point, shall we? You offered me a deal. I need to know if it still stands.”

I studied her face, enjoying the flush of anger in her cheeks. “What changed your mind? Last I heard, you’d rather live in your car.”

She flinched. “My circumstances have changed.”

“How so?”

Her eyes flashed. “I…my mom left some debts to be paid. I’m out of cash.”

“How much do you need?” I asked calmly.

She fidgeted nervously, like she was afraid to answer.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” I reminded her. I obviously knew about the five grand, but she didn’t know I knew.

“F…Five thousand dollars. By Friday,” she whispered, her eyes locked on mine, as though she was trying to gauge my reaction.

Just then, the coffee came. I slid hers over to her and took a sip of mine, nodding at her to carry on.

She held her cup, but didn’t drink immediately. “My mother…she owed eighty grand before she died. The interest itself is hard to cover. I have no other family that can help.”

The interest part? I knew nothing about that.

“How much is the interest?” I asked, leaning closer.

Finally, she took a sip of her coffee, as if the words needed to be smoothed over in her throat. “10% per month.”

I clenched my cup harder. What the actual fuck? That’s exorbitant. What bastard would put a woman in such a situation? Whoever did this to her would pay.

Someday.

“You’ll have the money,” I said evenly. “Five thousand dollars by Friday.”

The color drained from her face like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Just like that?”

“In exchange for the same thing I offered before. Marriage,” I said.

“Why? You could have any woman you want.”

I smiled. “And I want you.”

“Why?” she demanded again.

“Because you need money and I need a wife. I’m a powerful man, and people view powerful men with wives with just a little more respect,” I said simply. “It’s good for my reputation.”

But the truth? The truth was that she was real. God. She was, and it was written all over her. Right then, she was trying to play it cool, but I saw the way she bit her lower lip nervously and the way she flung her ponytail over one shoulder, fiddling with her hair.

“So this is like a business arrangement?” she asked skeptically.

“Yes. Exactly.”

She looked away, shaking her head as if she were fighting an inner battle. “What would this... arrangement... entail exactly?”

“You would become my wife. Live in my home. In return, I would take care of your financial problems. All of them. Your mother’s debts. Anything else. Everything.”

“And... physically?” she asked, her cheeks flushing.

I felt a stir of heat at the question. God, to have her, physically. I could already imagine what it would be to claim her, to mark her, to slide off those clothes and caress that skin. “I won’t force it.”

She let out a sigh of relief, though her eyes softened when she looked at me. “I have a sister. Megan. Her college…”

“It’ll be handled,” I said, without wasting a moment.

Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

She looked like a kid who had been told they could have ice cream for dinner—like all of this was too good to be true.

Her fingers twisted together on the table. “For how long?”

“The marriage? Indefinitely.”

“And if I want out?”

“You’d be generously compensated in a divorce. But I’d expect you to give it at least a year before considering that option.”

She bit her lip, clearly weighing her limited options. “When would this happen?”

“As soon as possible,” I said. “And the deal stands if you pack your stuff and move into my house today. Right now.”

I knew where she lived—with a friend in a tiny apartment. I couldn’t imagine her living in such a cramped space. I also knew she’d appreciate my place once she saw it.

Her head snapped up. “Today? That’s impossible.”

“That’s the deal.”

“But—”

“My offer has conditions, Autumn,” I interrupted smoothly. “And all I ask is that you move in today and we marry within the week.”

“That’s insane,” she protested.

“That’s non-negotiable.” I leaned forward. “Five thousand dollars is just the beginning of what you need. I’m offering you a way out. The only way out.”

She stared at me in shock.

“I’ll pay your mother’s debt in whole,” I continued. “I’ll make sure your sister completes her education without financial worry. All you have to do is say yes.”

Autumn’s hands trembled slightly. “You know I don’t have a choice.”

“Everyone has choices. Some are just harder than others.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “You’ve backed me into a corner, and now you’re acting like you’re doing me a favor.”

I shrugged. “Life backed you into a corner, Autumn. I’m just offering you a door.”

She fell silent, staring down at the untouched latte. I let her think, knowing I’d already won.

“Fine,” she finally said, her voice barely audible. “I’ll marry you.”

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She agreed.

I let out a smile and leaned back against my chair, motioning at the waiter to bring the check.

“I…” Autumn reached to grab her bag. I leaned over, cupped her hand in mine, and levelled a look to stop. She gasped, her eyes darting to our hands, before meeting mine. A sharp, shooting current shot up my arm.

“I’ve got it,” I said, my voice turning to gravel. From now on, I’ve got it all for her.

***

We walked out of the café, and Autumn looked to her right, like she was wondering what her next steps were to be.

“Do you have a car here?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Leave it. We’ll take mine. I’ll have yours collected later.

My car was parked across the street; the scratched Bentley had been replaced with a Mercedes. I opened the passenger door for her, watching as she hesitated before getting in.

“Where do you live?” I asked as I slid behind the wheel.

She gave me the address I already had, and it led to a run-down part of town. She sat in silence the whole drive over, staring out the window like a prisoner being transported to a life sentence.

“You won’t regret this,” I said after several minutes of tense silence.

She turned to look at me, her expression unreadable. “I already do.”

I laughed. She really didn’t beat around the bush or sugarcoat things, did she? “You’ll change your mind.”

“Don’t count on it.” She rolled her eyes.

I couldn’t help but smirk.

We arrived at her friend’s apartment building—a shabby walk-up that made me grimace. I parked and was reaching for the door when she whispered. “Please…can I go alone?”

“Alone?” I inquired, wondering why. “Don’t you want help?”

“I’d rather my friend doesn’t know what we’ve agreed to. Also… if it’s okay, I want to keep our arrangement a secret from my sister.”

That was the first time I felt guilty. Not because I regretted what I’d done—but because she was ashamed of what she’d accepted. And I’d made her feel that.

“Of course,” I said softly. “Take all the time you need.”

I watched her disappear into the building, wondering briefly if she might try to run.

But I knew she wouldn’t. Not with her sister’s safety at stake.

Twenty minutes later, she emerged with two suitcases and a duffel bag.

Not much to show for twenty-four years of life.

I got out and took the bags from her, placing them in the trunk.

When Autumn got in the car, her eyes were red-rimmed but dry.

“Ready?” I asked.

She nodded.

As I pulled away from the curb, I glanced over at her—the delicate nose, the stubborn chin, the mouth that seemed permanently set in a line of determination.

Soon, that mouth would be smiling at me.

Soon, she would be grateful for what I’d done.

“This is the start,” I said quietly, eyes on the road. “Everything changes from here.”

She turned to look at me, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of the fire in her that had captivated me from the start—that refusal to be broken, even when cornered.

“Just so we’re clear,” she said evenly, “I’m doing this for my sister. Not for you. Not for money. For her.”

“Your motives don’t concern me,” I replied.

And that was true. Because I knew that the future would be worth it. For her, and for me.