Page 26 of Pregnant Prisoner By the Bratva (Tarasov Bratva #12)

It was chilled in here—the ultrasound room, with its white walls, white light, and white silence. Serene and sterile. Like a morgue but with better lighting.

I stood by the window, arms across my chest, eyes fixed on my wife as she lay back on a padded recliner. Her blouse was tugged just above her belly, her gaze pinned on the monitor to her right.

Beside her, the technician—a blond woman with gentle eyes and an efficient manner—rubbed something that looked like gel on my wife’s belly. Her movement was fluid and smooth, a testament to years of experience and precision.

Ester flinched a bit, a quiet wince escaping her lips.

I felt that in my guts, my hands dropping to my sides reflexively, eyes narrowing on my wife.

Her safety and that of our baby’s was my major concern—they were my top priority, and I’d do whatever it took to make sure they were safe at all times.

The technician stole a glance at me with a faint grin on her lips, then faced the monitor again, whispering something to Ester.

Girl talk, maybe. Or perhaps, it was something to do with the ultrasound. Whatever the case, Ester shot a quick look in my direction, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Her skin shimmered under the soft light, her baby bump beautiful and elegant.

It had been six weeks since the wedding, and the only palpable change was in Ester’s physical appearance. Her belly was beginning to swell; her beauty seemed to deepen in ways that left me in awe, and her skin had taken on a different kind of glow—ethereal and soft.

Aside from that, everything else was pretty much the same between us—quiet, distant.

We didn’t argue anymore, and the ease we once shared was gone, replaced by a heaviness neither of us could name.

We no longer teased or challenged each other like we used to.

Now, for some reason, this newfound silence was even louder than all the shouting we did before.

It was the worst in every way I could think of.

Honestly, I never thought the day would come when I’d miss the sound of her voice mid-argument.

Never thought I’d miss her frown—that deadly sneer she wore when she was pissed.

The way she locked her jaw, furrowed her brows, and glared at me like she was about to burn the whole house down was nothing but a memory now.

God, I missed the old us. Didn’t think it was possible. But clearly, it was.

“At 20 weeks, everything looks strong and healthy,” the technician’s voice sliced through my thoughts like a knife.

I blinked back to the present, wondering what I’d missed while I was lost in my own thoughts. The room was filled with a soft, steady sound. Alive.

Like a beating heart.

My eyes fell on the monitor, my chest tightening at the image displayed on the screen.

A shape.

A little spine.

A curve.

I saw it clearly, the baby, tiny limbs twitching like whispers of motion, five fingers curled into a perfect little hand.

The technician took a few measurements after clicking something on the screen. Then, she turned her head, her gaze shifting between Ester and me. “Would you like to know the gender?”

For some reason, my heart sank into my belly, and my throat was dry all of a sudden. Ester glanced at me, as if seeking my permission. I tried to speak, but my voice wouldn’t come. So, I nodded once, a stiff jerk of my chin.

She wore a courteous smile. “It’s a girl.”

I forgot how to breathe, my brows rising in surprise. “A girl?”

Ester shifted her gaze toward me, as if trying to figure out my reaction to the news. We hadn’t really discussed our preferences; neither of us had mentioned what we wanted. A boy or a girl. Her skepticism was justified. As was that glint of concern in her eyes.

Instinctively, my feet, like a separate entity on their own, moved me away from the window and toward my wife.

Something cracked open inside me, not loudly.

Just a quiet shift, like ice cream melting beneath the surface.

My expression softened, the closer I drew to her, my lips curling into a self-satisfied grin, small and almost imperceptible.

I halted before Ester and took her hand, my fingers squeezing gently against hers. She looked up at me, beaming that charming, genuine smile of hers that lit up her face, her mood. I’d almost forgotten just how gorgeous and contagious her smile was. Radiant.

“This is good news,” I said, mirroring her grin, my heart filled with the kind of gladness I hadn’t felt in ages.

This was a chance to redeem myself—it was nature’s way of compensating me for losing my sister.

Decades ago, I failed to protect Maria. Now, I was offered an opportunity to right my wrongs, to ease my conscience, and succeed where I failed before. I wasn’t going to mess this up this time. Not again.

As my wife and I stared into each other’s eyes, I felt the tension between us ease a bit. It was almost like the burden in my chest seemed lighter, like that authentic smile on her lips lifted a load off me.

For the first time in a while, I remembered why I was convinced before that marrying her was a great idea. Ester and our baby girl in her womb were undoubtedly the center of my world—my top priority.

Ester’s radiant smile was a subtle reminder of my vows at the altar—vows to always make her happy at all times.

I made up my mind right there to take charge of the situation and at least attempt to bring back the good days.

She’d been through a lot and deserved to be happy; I should be her happiness, the source of her joy.

On the drive back home, Ester was a whole new person—smiling uncontrollably while humming a song to herself, her voice a low whisper. She was seated by my side in the backseat, leaning against the window with her head resting on the cool glass.

I tapped my palm against my thigh, watching her from the corner of my eye, wondering how to share my thoughts with her. “I want this.” The words fell from my lips, raw and unrestrained.

She raised her head off the glass and turned to face me, eyes squinting ever so slightly. Ester stared at me for a moment before asking, “Care to elaborate?”

“You,” I answered, holding her gaze. “The baby.” My eyes darted to her belly for a second, then returned to her face again. “I want this family we’re about to build—you and me. The two of us together.”

Her expression softened, her eyes glassy, as if my words had somehow triggered her tear glands. She swallowed, blinking a few times with an unwavering gaze. “Don’t mess with me, Yulian,” she warned, a faint scowl flashing across her face. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

I reached out and held her hand, my eyes boring into hers.

“I don’t throw empty words around, Ester.

” I squeezed gently, my thumb brushing against her knuckles.

“So, when I say that I want you, that I want to start a family with you and our unborn baby girl…I mean every single word.” My voice was low, steady, and deliberate.

Her chest was heaving with slow breaths, her misted eyes blinking as if to hold back her tears. “You do?” she whispered, staring into my face.

“Yes.” I nodded. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”

“Are you sure about this, Yulian? It’s—it’s a pretty serious commitment, and if you’re not all in, then—” The words spilled from her mouth in a nervous rush.

“I am sure,” I cut her off. “And I’m in, all the way. You know why?”

Her silence was my cue.

“Because….” I swallowed hard, bracing myself for this confession.

“Because you’ve unlocked something inside me, Ester.

You’ve awakened an emotion that for so long, I’d been afraid to name.

” I paused, letting my words sink in for a moment.

“But after all that we’ve been through together, and now this amazing gift in your womb…

I’ve come to the conclusion that what I feel for you is… .”

The anticipation in her gaze was clear, her breath hitched in her throat.

I stared deeper into those stormy gray eyes before dropping the word like a bombshell. “Love.”

She let out a soft exhale, her lips curling into a small smile. Ester’s fingers squeezed against mine, but she didn’t say a word. She just held my gaze, her eyes boring into mine as if searching for any signs of insincerity.

She wouldn’t find any. Not even one. Because I was as sincere as I could be, honest and genuine.

In the compound, the vehicle had barely come to a complete halt when she stepped outside, then reached back to take my hand. No words. No glance. Just a simple tug that said, follow me . And I did. I followed her.

Through the front door of the building, past the guards who bowed their heads slightly, and into the quiet warmth of the foyer. She didn’t slow. She went up the steps, led me through the exquisite hallway, and didn’t stop until we were in our bedroom.

Ester let go of my hand and shut the door behind us. Before my mind could register what was actually happening, she reached out and threw her arms around my neck, her lips locking with mine.

The kiss was soft, almost hesitant at first, like she wasn’t sure how I was going to react to it. I didn’t stop her, just let her do her thing. My hands hovered for a moment before they found her waist, and I pulled her close. Gently, like I didn’t want to spook her.

Ester withdrew, breaking the kiss, her eyes dark, wide, and unreadable as she looked up at me. Her chest rose and fell, with something resembling desire dancing in her gaze.

And then, prompted by passion and lust, our lips collided again; this time, it was different.

Deeper. More fervent. Messy enough to leave us both gasping for breath. Heads tilted sideways, tongues invaded our mouths, charged with weeks of pent-up tension. My hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head as my lips devoured hers again and again.

She broke the kiss again, fingers clutching at my shirt, fisting the fabric as if she needed it to stay upright. “I love you, too, Yulian.”

My lips curved into a self-satisfied grin, knowing that the feeling was mutual and that we were on the same page at last.

She beamed at me and then moved to reclaim my lips. Our kiss deepened, the heat building as I pulled closer, reveling in the sound of her soft purrs. This passion coursing through our blood was threatening to consume us both, and I could feel myself losing control.

I fondled her swollen breasts, deliciously pinching her peaks while my hand slid down her belly. She flinched, a quiet wince escaping her lips like I’d pressed a little too hard against her stomach.

Alarmed, I pulled away, eyes roaming her body to confirm that she wasn’t in pain of any sort. Breathless, our chests heaved subtly, my head resting against hers, my arms around her waist. Protective and possessive.

I brushed my thumb over her cheek, her skin smooth beneath mine.

“I want you so badly,” she whispered, her voice trembling in ecstasy. “But we can’t do this now.”

I raised her chin and held her gaze, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “I understand.”

She closed her eyes, a sigh of relief leaving her mouth as I planted a soft, reverent kiss on her forehead.

I held her close, her head resting on my chest, listening to the sound of my beating heart. We remained like that, quiet in each other’s arms.

No rush.

No fire.

Just the two of us, basking in the passion we shared.