Page 56 of Pregnant Virgin of the Bratva

“I know it was.”

He steps closer. I flinch.

“He wasn’t just my brother,” Damien says, eyes narrowing. “He was my blood. He brought me in. Protected me. Kept me alive when our old man left us nothing but bruises and debt. He was the only real thing I had left.”

I swallow hard, throat tight.

“And you?” he continues. “Some spoiled girl wrapped in silk and bodyguards. You let him die. You helped them kill him.”

“I never wanted—”

“Doesn’t matter what you wanted,” he says coldly. “What matters is what you took.”

I glance past him. There’s no exit. Just the gate I slipped through, now partially blocked by another man—silent, stocky, arms crossed.

Damien has backup, which of course he does.

My heart slams against my ribs. My hand inches toward my coat pocket, where I usually keep a blade—except it’s not there. I wasn’t allowed to carry today. Kion said I didn’t need it.

Damien steps in even closer, and I press back so hard into the wall it feels like I might break through it.

“You know,” he says, voice softening in that way that makes it worse, “I thought about killing Kion. Slitting his throat while he sleeps. Or putting a bullet through that pretty skull of his while he stares down at whatever empire he thinks he owns.”

My stomach twists.

“But then I thought… no. That would be too easy.” He pauses. “You’re the reason my brother’s dead. You made himsoft. Distracted. Kion won’t bleed for anything, but he’ll bleed for you.”

He leans in, just enough that I feel his breath against my cheek. “So I’m gonna hurt you first.”

My knees nearly give. I grip the wall for balance, nails scraping against the cold brick.

The second man shifts behind him, clearly waiting for a signal. A green light. My panic surges.

“Please,” I whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

The words spill out like a shield, instinctive, desperate.

Damien pauses, then he laughs.

“Sure you are,” he murmurs. “That’s exactly the kind of twisted symmetry Kion would love. Breed his little prize and build a legacy.”

He straightens again, and I brace myself, expecting the blow.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, he tilts his head back toward the alley mouth, where a third figure now stands. Hooded. Waiting.

“You’ll come with us,” Damien says. “Or I start pulling pieces off the people who helped you today. That friend of yours—Talia, right? Funny how fast we found her. She talks a lot when she’s nervous.”

Ice floods my veins.

“You’re lying,” I say.

He grins. “You wanna find out?”

I shake my head. Tears burn hot in my eyes. My body is shaking, blood roaring in my ears. I’m cold all over.

“Why now?” I ask. “Why wait this long?”