Page 16 of Pregnant Virgin of the Bratva

I do. They all know I do.

Still, I remain silent.

They speak of tradition, of order, of the old rules written before any of them sat at this table. They speak of blood. Theyspeak of duty. Their words swirl together like smoke, indistinct and repetitive, trying to corner me with their weight.

None of it matters. My mind is already made up.

I snort, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Please. The only thing open around here is your mouth, and I’m about five seconds from shutting that too.”

The room goes still for half a second. Then the murmurs start.

Yuri narrows his eyes at me. “You don’t get to say no. Not to this. Not when it threatens the entire structure.”

“She is not a threat,” I reply with a theatrical roll of my eyes.

“She’s a witness.”

“She is mine, so shut up.”

That quiets them again.

I step forward, letting my boots echo against the tile. The silence deepens. My gaze sweeps across the men seated before me, each of them trained to read weakness, to smell it in the air. I give them none.

“I am claiming her,” I say with a wicked look. “Under Bratva law.”

Someone exhales sharply. Another swears beneath his breath. A third mutters, “You’re joking.”

I ignore them.

“Bratva law or not, anyone lays a hand on her, they answer to me. Try me if you’re feeling brave.”

“This is madness,” Yuri says, standing. “You would tie yourself to a stranger? To a liability?”

I roll my eyes again. “I’d tie myself to a wild animal before I’d let you all dictate who shares my bed. At least she’s got more bite than half of you combined.”

The weight of that lands. They know what I’m doing. I’m not marrying her out of sentiment. I’m drawing a line around her with blood and code. If they go through her, they go through me—and through the foundation they helped create.

“She’s nothing,” one of the younger captains sneers. “Just a girl.”

I meet his gaze. “Then let her mean nothing. Let her live under my name, and keep your hands clean.”

The murmurs rise again, louder now. Some argue, some scoff. Others watch me closely, trying to divine the angle, the purpose beneath the surface. I let them wonder.

“You would risk your position for this?” Yuri asks, voice low and cold.

“I don’t need to risk it,” I reply. “The law is already on my side.”

Yuri, older and slower to speak, clears his throat. “You know what this looks like. It is personal, even if you say it is not. You think the girl can be leveraged, but she could also be used against you.”

“If anyone tries,” I say, “they’ll regret it.”

He studies me for a moment. He has seen what I do when I am crossed. He knows I mean it.

“They will see this as weakness,” another elder murmurs.

“Then let them,” I answer with a shrug. “Let them misunderstand. It will not end well for them.”

They hate it. I can feel it in the air, the tight tension between them, the anger they don’t dare voice. No one expectedthis. No one knows how to dismantle it without dismantling everything else.