Page 5 of Secret Bratva Baby (Dubrov Bratva #16)

I’m restless and agitated, and I haven’t been able to sleep at all. So much happened in such a short space of time.

One moment, I was tending to the warehouse, and the next I was rushing out to help Rose, the girl who stole my heart that I never let go.

The thought of her lying right here, in my house, only a short distance from me—it’s driving me crazy.

Images of how we used to be together keep haunting me.

The way we would wrestle, and I’d pin her down beneath white sheets.

How she’d wrap her legs around me and tilt her head back, her lips parted as I pushed into her.

My cock grows hard, and I become more annoyed and frustrated.

It’s wild how my attraction toward her hasn’t faded one bit. I thought it would have; after all these years, I thought I would have been able to move on. To let go. But despite the years of not seeing her, she still tears at my heart in ways I have no control over.

Her perfect, peach-colored lips. Her beautiful blonde hair streaked with gold—I remember how it used to shine in the sunlight. I’d run my fingers through it and lift it up to my face to breathe in the scent of her.

Strawberries.

I toss over in bed for the hundredth time. I’m getting more and more annoyed, and that means sleep is pushing further and further away from me. I’m exhausted but hyped up on my thoughts.

I press the button on the side of my watch, and it lights the numbers on the screen. Half past three.

Maybe I should go and check on her. Maybe she needs something for the kid, or for herself, but she’s too scared to ask.

I can just look into the room. They’ll probably be asleep, but maybe it’ll settle my anxious tension and I’ll be able to sleep, too.

It’s easy to make up my mind, because really I just want to see her again, and I’ll grab at any excuse to do so.

Even if seeing her means leaning over her bed and watching her sleeping for a moment, it’s like I want to double-check that she’s real. That she’s really here with me.

Throwing the blankets off my legs, I stand up and pad barefoot across the floor, wearing only a pair of dark grey sweatpants. The house is warm and temperature-controlled.

My bedroom door is open, left that way on purpose so that I could hear if she called out for me in the night.

But it’s been silent since their own closed behind them.

I wanted her to need me.

I wanted her to whisper my name, quietly in the dark, her eyes looking up at me.

I huff in annoyance. Stop thinking like that, Luka. It’s not helping anything.

The house is quiet as I walk towards their bedroom door. It feels wrong to creep about in the dark like this, like I am a voyeur, spying on the sleeping beauty I’ve stolen. The keeper of a little bird trapped in a cage.

That’s exactly what I am, though.

Her bedroom door is closed. I pause outside, listening for voices from inside, but I hear nothing. They’re asleep. Leave them alone.

Pushing the door gently open, I step into the dark room. The entire room carries her scent. It leaves me full of a yearning I don’t want to feel. The memories I don’t want in my head become stronger, clearer.

I walk silently to the side of the bed, peering down at what should be two sleeping figures. But there is only one. A tiny one—Lily, sprawled out on her back, lying like a starfish, fast asleep. Oblivious to the world around her and any danger she might be in.

The beautiful little girl looks peaceful and comfortable.

Something stirs inside my heart, a familiarity as I stare down at her.

I chuckle. It’s obviously because she looks so much like her mom, the same cupid’s-bow lips, the same soft blonde hair.

She’s like the little cupid to her mother’s angel.

I reach my hand out to brush my fingers over her soft, chubby cheeks, but I stop. What am I doing?

I tug her blanket up, tucking it around her tiny body.

Where is Rose?

“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath. “Where is your mother?”

She wouldn’t have left her child behind. This thought reassures me.

I saw how close she was holding her daughter, not letting go of her once until she was safely in the bedroom. There is no chance she would have escaped and left her behind. Rose is still here somewhere.

I leave the room, closing the door behind me, leaving Lily resting safely. Outside in the hallway, I pause. Tilting my head to the side, I listen. Any movement, any sounds at all…

There.

What was that?

I hurry towards the soft rustling sound, keeping my footsteps stealth as I move quickly across the floor, barefoot, like a hunter.

Pausing again further down the passage, I listen intently. Left.

Left. Right.

Shit, that’s not good.

The sound is coming from my weapons room. It’s usually locked, so how did she— dammit . I forgot it has the same code as the garage door. That was an oversight. She must have tried it and got lucky.

Pressing my body close to the wall, I peer around the open door, into the dark space of the room.

She’s seen me.

“Come inside,” she says, her voice shaking.

“Rose, what are you doing in here?” I sigh, stepping through the doorframe.

The moonlight is filtering through the windows; she pulled the blinds open to let it in, obviously so that she could look around without turning a light on and risking drawing attention to herself.

She’s standing in the corner of the room, holding a Glock 19.

The gun is too big for her hands.

I step fully into the room with my hands held up at shoulder height. My eyes dart around, assessing the danger.

“Lily, please put that down before something happens.”

“I will shoot you,” she says, stern, but her voice is still shaking.

I note, as I move a little closer, that her hands are shaking too.

Has she ever held a gun?

“Lily, put the gun down. Don’t force me to do something I don’t want to do.”

“Like what? Kill me?” She hisses.

She looks beautiful, standing in the moonlight with her golden-streaked blonde hair glowing. Her eyes are wide, frightened, like a deer caught in the headlights.

I move, lifting my hand as though I’m going to take the gun from her, and she jumps back, aiming it stronger, her arms more rigid. She’s determined to look in control.

“You’re holding it wrong,” I say calmly.

“It doesn’t matter how I hold it. When I pull the trigger, the bullet will kill you just the same.” She snaps.

“Sure, but if you do decide to pull the trigger and shoot me, the slide is going to snap back and slice your hand open.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

It’s becoming clearer that she’s never held a gun before. She’s never been exposed to them. That means something.

It means she’s not part of the rival group. She’s not a spy or an infiltrator or an informant. If she were, she’d have experience or training.

She’s just Rose.

I hope.

I take another step towards her, and she flinches, her finger tight on the trigger.

“Do you really want to kill me?” I ask gently.

“No, so stay back. Let us go. Let Lily and me walk out of here.”

“That would mean letting the other guys hunt you down and kill you. We’ve been through this. I’m not willing to put you in that kind of danger. You or your daughter.”

There it is.

The flicker of doubt in her eyes. Her face softens.

Now is my chance.

I don’t waste a second. Snapping my hand forward, I grab her wrist and twist it so that she’s forced to spin around and let go of the Glock. It drops to the floor, and I kick it away from us.

I drag her back, right against my body, so that she’s locked against my chest, my arms around her. She lets out a sharp squeal of fright, trying to elbow me in the ribs, but she’s so tightly wrapped in my arms that she can hardly move.

“Just stand still, dammit,” I huff, trying to control her wiggling, her back pressed against my body. The heat of her skin soaks into me.

Her scent drifts over me, and her soft hair brushes over my naked chest. The groan that escapes me is an accident.

I take in a sharp breath, trying to force myself to focus, but it’s nearly impossible with her this close to me.

I hesitate and release her, just slightly, and she doesn’t step away immediately.

Instead, she turns to look at me, her body still against mine.

She tilts her head up, her eyes wide and glittering with the threat of tears.

“Why did you push me away?” she says, so softly I almost don’t hear her.

I narrow my eyes, wondering why she would ask that.

“All those years ago,” she whispers. “You pushed me away.”

Oh.

“I-I—I—" I stammer, my eyes locked onto her face, studying her beautiful features. My heart is racing.

I could just lean down and kiss her. It would be so easy, and I don’t think she’d stop me, not with the way her eyes are drifting over my mouth. Her lips part as she takes in a breath.

Kiss her. She wants you too.

I press my lips together, reaching my hand up to brush my fingers over her back. I trace the delicate shape of her spine.

She shivers against me, still not moving away.

My cock is stirring, getting harder, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to end up taking advantage of her in a way that isn’t fair.

Stop, Luka. Get away from her, create space between you.

But instead of stopping myself, I lift my hand, wrapping it around her jaw.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I first saw you,” I whisper.

Her brows furrow in confusion.

“You aren’t ever going to answer me, are you? You left me, with no explanation—you just pushed me away.”

“I’m—"

I’m taking a huge risk.

This is not what she needs right now. She needs someone to take care of her, not take advantage of her.

I sigh loudly; this is far more difficult than I could have imagined.

My hands wrap around her waist, gently pushing her back, hoping she hasn’t already noticed how hard my cock is getting.

Rose presses her lips together and swallows, looking away from me to hide the single tear shining on her cheek.

She doesn’t say a word.

“Please, Rose, get some rest. We can talk in the morning.”

“You won’t even answer me, so there’s no point in talking. I have nothing to say to you, Luka. I just want to go home.” Her eyes lock with mine, and I see something lost inside her. “I should never have asked you in the first place.”

She pushes past me and marches from the room.

I stare after her for a long time, wondering how the hell I got myself into this situation, and shocked at the effect she still has on me.

It’s like no time has passed.

She is still the same drug to me. The same addiction.

I can’t believe how strong my attraction is for her.

I push my hand through my hair, brushing it out of my face and closing my eyes for a moment to try and clear my thoughts.

“Go to bed. Get some sleep,” I mutter, frustrated.

Walking back to my room, I am heavy with confusing ideas and unrealistic possibilities.

She didn’t push me away.

Her first question was why I left her. She still wants to know. If she hated me, she wouldn’t care about those things.

And when I wanted to kiss her, I swear I saw the same need in her eyes, too.

Dammit, her body felt amazing pressed against me.

I tug at my bedcovers, pulling them aside and slipping beneath them. When I lay my head back on the pillow and close my eyes, I can still smell her.

She’s on my skin.

The silky touch of her hair still lingers, too.

I huff loudly and roll onto my side, squeezing my eyes shut tighter.

Sleep.

I need to sleep.

I drift in and out of dreams about her, restless and uncomfortable.

In one dream, we’re in the past, sitting at the bench overlooking the city, the one in the parking lot near the hiking trail.

It’s dark and there are thousands of stars above us.

I lean closer to her, wrapping my arm around her waist. In this moment, I wanted to ask her to marry me, but I remember being scared.

I wake up with a fright.

My heart is racing. I wanted to marry her, but instead I pushed her away.

Maybe, if things had been different, I would have looked for her again. But then I lost Grigoriy, and my world fell apart for a while.

I sigh loudly, lying alone in the dark.

I have a feeling she’s going to ask me again to explain what happened—why I broke it off with her.

And I can’t avoid answering forever.

I’d have to tell her everything about my family’s background, too. The mafia, bratva, the underworld we function in.

What am I going to tell her?

That I was trying to keep her safe? That I thought it was for the best?

That I have regretted my decision every single day since then.