Page 16 of Pregnant Prisoner By the Bratva (Tarasov Bratva #12)

Pregnant? Hell, no!

I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I was carrying Yulian’s child in my womb. Yulian—the same man who kidnapped me, locked me up in his basement, and left me dead, that Yulian?

This was messed up on so many levels. The situation was all shades of crazy.

I knew when I slept with him that night in New York that there was something strange about him, that I just might regret falling for his charms later on. Yet, I went ahead and fucked the man.

I didn’t think my regret would carry so much weight—I just thought that I’d hate myself for being so attached to a stranger.

That was my worst-case scenario—getting too much enjoyment out of him, so I’d end up missing him badly. How the hell did this situation shift from that to this?

Fuck!

I was in trouble now—deep trouble.

The plan was to keep my affair with Yulian a secret after finding out who he was—my father’s worst enemy. For some time, that had been the goal, and it seemed to be working, considering that no one else knew about my history with the man.

It was a one-night stand, for fuck’s sake!

Regardless, no one knew about it, and I thought that if I stayed in my zone and avoided ever running into him, I’d be fine.

The last thing I needed was my father losing his mind over a mistake I made two months ago.

Not that I knew who Yulian was back then anyway.

But it was best to keep that piece of information from him.

I had a lot on my plate already, and the son of a bitch, Yulian, decided now was the best time to show up and ruin my life. He should’ve just stayed away—never should have sent those men after me.

Is Yulian really to be blamed for all of this? Or is it just convenient for me to dump all the blame on him? I asked myself.

Yulian didn’t waltz back into my life by choice. No, our reunion was fate’s plan—one that completely destroyed any chance I had at happiness. Sure, Yulian was guilty of kidnapping me and locking me in his basement like an animal. But not everything was his fault.

Fate played us both.

Of all the men on planet earth, it just so happened that I had a fuckin’ one-night stand with my father’s worst enemy.

Like that wasn’t enough, fate had a crazy plan to bring us back together again under even worse circumstances—one where I finally learned who Yulian was and how messed up the situation had become.

And now to top it all off, there was a friggin’ baby involved. Jesus Christ!

Well played, fate. Well played.

Blame fate all you want, it’s not gonna make the problem go away.

It’s not gonna change anything, my inner voice said, harsh and unapologetic.

You’re blaming everyone but yourself because you’re too scared to face the truth.

All of this is your fault. If you had just listened to me that night and not let Yulian, who by the way, was a total stranger, inside your apartment, none of this would have happened.

Those words pierced my heart like a bullet. But that was the truth. I’d been horny that night, and I hadn’t been thinking clearly. That night, I drowned out my voice of reason just so I could have the time of my life. Now look where that has gotten me months later—nothing but pain and regret.

Clearly, there was more than enough blame to go around. But would I waste my time being angry at everyone involved in this situation, or would I channel that anger into getting the hell out of this place?

Knowing I was carrying his baby somehow made Yulian grow a heart. Or at least something that resembled it. Ever since the revelation at the hospital, my new cell was a well-furnished room with a big comfy bed, a fireplace, and some plush couches.

Yulian had his maids catering to my every need, treating me like a delicate pearl to be handled with care. I was free to explore the mansion, go wherever I wanted as long as I remained within the compound. His men were all over the place like a swarm of bees, watching my every move.

Yulian knew better than to underestimate me, and so he asked his men to double the security and keep an eye on me at all times. Yulian never should have let me roam the compound freely if he intended to keep me here.

One way or another, I’d find my way out of this place, and exploring the mansion—every corner, every room—was the fastest way to do that.

Every day, I’d walk around the house, noting the guards, their movements, and their routines.

At first, they watched me closely like a hawk, their gazes stern and suspicious.

They might have suspected that I was up to something, but over time, I played the part so well—quiet, compliant, too broken to be a threat—that they let their guard down.

When they looked at me, all they saw was a woman with a defeated mind and a broken spirit. At least that was what I let them see. It was the only way to get their sharp eyes off my back.

I spent hours every day paying attention to even the tiniest of details about everyone and everything in this mansion. During the day, there were six exterior guards, two more stationed inside, and another who roamed.

The more I observed, the more the patterns revealed themselves.

Shift changes happened at precise intervals: midnight, six, noon, and then six again. However, it was the 5:55 window that things usually got sloppy. It was during that period that the day and night guards crossed paths and exchanged notes with each other.

For the whole five minutes, these men would linger too long in the north hallway, chatting just outside the surveillance room. They’d laugh, smoke, drink coffee, and complain about the cold.

This was the first loophole I noted.

There were CCTV cameras almost everywhere in the building. Almost. I noticed a couple of blind spots—places where the cameras didn’t fully catch. One was near the pantry downstairs, just beyond the wine cellar. Another was at the corner of the second-floor balcony, where the angle was slightly off.

These were all the windows that I could use.

But the most important one was the narrow maintenance passage I found behind the east library shelf.

I stumbled upon it by accident while exploring the library’s book collection.

It was a hidden crawlspace that must have led through the walls and opened into the utility room at the garage.

I knew this because the night I found it, I dared to crawl into the space, hoping that it would lead me outside the building. I didn’t escape that night because of the guards, and because I also wasn’t prepared.

It broke my heart that I had to turn back and wait for the right moment. I could almost taste my freedom, but if I had made a reckless move and gotten caught, that would’ve been the end for me. I had only one shot at this, and I had to make it count.

I traced every step in my mind and memorized the timing to the second.

A few nights later, I was ready.

The air was colder than usual, sharp and silent. I lay in my bed, dressed in all black so I could easily blend with the night. My heart was pounding like a drum, eyes fixed on the wall clock across the room.

I listened to the movement outside my door—same lazy steps, same casual swing of the flashlight beneath the door. It was clear. The guards hadn’t changed yet.

I waited, nervously chewing my nails.

Paying rapt attention, I listened for the soft buzz of the radio check-in.

Then came the footsteps. Then the deep, gruff voices. Finally, they were switching shifts.

This was it. Now or never.

I slipped out of bed and quietly padded across the room, my shoes making no sound against the floor. Carefully, I opened the door with practiced precision, stuck my head out into the hallway, and looked both ways.

Clear.

I crept low, staying in the shadows like a ninja—an amateur one, in my case. I hurried through the hallway and headed downstairs, my heart thundering in my chest. I moved past the sculpture on the left, then took a sharp turn into the study, followed by the library.

Once inside, I gently shut the door behind me and ran quickly, tracing my fingers along the edge of the third shelf.

I found it.

Click.

The panel shifted just enough for me to slip through. Inside, the air smelled like old wood, and I had to cover my mouth to block out the dust. I couldn’t cough—couldn’t risk making any noise and being caught.

Silently, I moved in the dark, my flashlight held up in front of me. The further in I went, the more I counted the seconds, and felt the vibrations of the walls pressing in on both sides.

Soon, I reached the end and burst into the utility room, ducking through the camera blind spots I’d mapped out in my mind.

Almost there.

I glided through the back of the garage, and before the guard could spot me, I crouched beside a covered SUV. My heart was racing like a galloping horse, my breath too heavy to catch. That was close, I almost got caught.

I waited in silence until the guard made his usual pass of the east fence.

Alright, this was it. Thirty seconds. That’s how long I had.

Without thinking twice, I bolted toward the maintenance gate, anticipating my freedom. I was close, so fuckin’ close, when the lights came back up, forcing me to stop in my tracks. My eyes widened, my heart threatening to jump out of my chest.

“Going somewhere?” Yulian’s voice startled me.

I flinched, clenched my jaw, and slowly turned around to face him. Speechless, afraid, and unsure of what he might do to me.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between us with an unreadable expression. “You just don’t know when to give up, do you?” he asked, his voice low and even.

In his eyes was a glimpse of something that resembled intrigue—fascination.

I swallowed, struggling to remain as composed as I could, even though I was falling apart inside.

His expression darkened. “Did you really think that you could get away from me just like that?” He paused, his gaze sweeping over my body. “I underestimated you once. Good thing I didn’t do that again.”

I tried to breathe, but even that felt impossible right now. I was weak in the knees, too numb to speak or move.

His hand snapped out, and he gripped my jaw, hard and firm. Yulian leaned in, his breath brushing against my skin. “Try this again, and I’ll chain you to the bed,” he whispered in my face, his voice sending shivers down my spine.

Somehow, I could feel that he was kidding—if I fooled around again, there was no telling what he’d do to me.

Yulian pulled away and retreated without another word.

I let out a deep, long sigh of relief, bending over with my hands on my knees. It was over for me now; there was no escaping this mansion. This was my one shot, and I blew it. I was stuck with this monster now, alone and defenseless.

Dad wasn’t coming for me—no one was.

I was on my own, at the mercy of Yulian Tarasov.