Page 6 of Secret Bratva Baby (Dubrov Bratva #16)

It’s growing light outside. The morning sun is slowly filtering into my room.

Lily is still fast asleep next to me. I’m happy she is comfortable and not panicked over the things that happened last night.

I don’t know how much of it she saw, but I did my best to keep her eyes turned away and protect her from it.

As long as I keep my emotions and anxiety hidden from her, she will continue to believe that we are just staying with a friend of mine. That’s all she needs to know.

The rest is for me to bear alone, a burden I’ll carry easily to make sure she doesn’t have to worry at all.

I look from the window, glowing with a late sunrise, towards the bedroom door. What are the chances that it ’ s still unlocked?

I groan. The chances are low. He would most certainly have made sure I couldn’t get out again.

After what I pulled last night, threatening him with his own gun, I doubt he’d be stupid enough to leave it unlocked again.

My watch says it’s forty-five minutes past seven. I can’t remember the last time I slept this late. However, claiming that I actually got any sleep last night is a bit of a stretch.

People will be arriving at my office soon. They’ll realize I’m not there.

What will they do?

Sighing, I carefully extricate myself from under Lily, doing my best not to move her too much. On a normal day, she’d already be awake, but I think the adventures of last night threw her off a bit. And I might have woken her a few times in the night with my constant tossing.

I tiptoe to the door, my heart racing as I close my eyes, my hand wrapped around the doorknob. I say a silent little wish in my head.

It turns, the lock opens. I can’t believe it.

He didn’t lock us in.

Why?

I don’t understand. Why would he take that risk?

I push the door open and peek out into the hall.

I wonder if the front door code is the same as the garage and the gun room? If it is, I’ll unlock it, then run back here to grab Lily—we can escape before he’s even awake.

I hurry across the hallway towards the living room. I didn’t see much of the house last night when we got here, and in my midnight exploring, I went in the opposite direction from the front door.

The living room is big, and off to the left is a foyer that leads to the front door. I explore the edges of the living room, searching the windows and glass patio doors, then the foyer, looking for a keypad for the door. But there isn’t one.

Is it hidden?

Does it only open with a key?

Dammit, I thought this would be an easy way out.

When I don’t find what I need in the foyer, I search the kitchen, wondering if I should take a knife and hide it in my room.

But I roll my eyes at myself. I couldn’t even pull the trigger last night. What am I supposed to do with a knife?

I’m not made to kill people. It’s not in me. And from what I saw—what Luka did to that man outside my home—Luka is far more skilled than I am with a knife, and it would be more of a danger to me than protection.

I should head back to the bedroom before Luka wakes up. I’ll look again when I have a chance, but for now, I think it’s best if he doesn’t see me snooping around, in case he decides to lock our door, after all.

I hurry out of the kitchen, back towards the hallway.

But just as I’m about to turn towards it, I see my purse on the sofa in the living room. It’s partially hidden beneath a throw pillow.

He didn’t take it? I just left it there on the sofa. That means—what if my cell phone is still in there?

I hurry to my purse and quickly open it. Relief floods me when I see my phone tucked away in the side pocket. I grab it and the purse and run back to my room, closing the door behind me.

I rush into the bathroom, looking for privacy to make a call.

There is enough battery life. Thank goodness.

It’s eight thirty. Work has started, and Tania is bound to be in already—and worried about where I am.

Sure enough, there are three missed calls from her and a message from my neighbor, asking what time I’m dropping Lily off today and if everything is alright.

I quickly reply to my neighbor, letting her know I’m taking some time off work to visit a relative, and I’ll see her when I get back. I really don’t want her to worry about me. She’s too old to be put in that position.

Then I dial Tania, my hands shaking as I press the phone against my ear. I have to be careful with the choices I make now. With what I choose to tell her.

“Rose, where the hell are you? You know that idiot boss of ours gets weird when people are late,” Tania whispers into the phone.

“T, I had to go out of the city on emergency family business,” I lie. The thing is, I don’t want her to phone the police and have them come find me—not when my daughter is here with me and in as much danger as I am. There is no telling what would happen to us if I involved the police.

I still want to believe that Luka is a good man and that he will let us go eventually. But if I get the police out here, that will never happen. It might infuriate him to the point of doing something to harm us. It might make him lash out.

It’s not worth the risk to Lily.

“What do you mean? What happened? Is Lily okay?” Tania asks, flooded with worry.

“Yes, yes, she’s fine. She’s with me. She’s still sleeping, actually.

Listen, I’ll call you again in a week or so to explain, but I have to go now,” I say quietly, glancing nervously towards the half-closed bathroom door.

I don’t know if I can call her again, but at least I’ve bought myself some time.

Through the open door, I see movement, and my heart leaps right into my throat as I hurry to hang up the phone, wanting to hide it. But it’s no good.

Luka has already caught me. I don’t know how long he was standing outside there listening.

He pushes the door all the way open and steps inside.

He’s moving calmly, but I can immediately tell that he’s not pleased.

His eyes are pitch black as he holds his hand out towards me.

“Give it to me,” he says dangerously.

I don’t even hesitate—I just hand him the phone. I’m terrified of the way he’s looking at me.

“I just—"

“Who did you call?” he asks sternly.

“My work friend.”

He sneers, his lips curling in anger. He lets out a loud huff of air, shaking his head.

Then suddenly he turns away from me and storms out of the bathroom. I sit for a second, confused. What just happened?

Leaping into action, I follow him.

He walks out of the bedroom and down the hallway towards the kitchen, my phone still in his hand.

I steal a quick glance at the bed, towards Lily, still sleeping.

Then I bolt after him.

In the kitchen, he’s standing at the coffee machine. I can’t see my phone anywhere.

“I’m not giving it back,” he growls.

“I didn’t tell them anything,” I say, desperate for him not to be angry. I don’t want him upset; I have no idea what he’s capable of.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. I didn’t say I was kidnapped.”

“I heard the conversation, Rose,” he snarls, turning to glare at me.

“Must you test my patience at every corner? I respected you enough not to lock you in that room, and on two occasions, you’ve made me question my choices.

First, you pointed a gun at me and threatened to kill me, and second, you took your phone and called people behind my back.

Have you honestly got no idea what kind of danger you’re in because of those men I rescued you from? ”

“I’m trying to keep my daughter safe,” I shout, angry and frustrated and caged like an animal. I feel like I’ve been backed into a corner and there’s no escape.

“By threatening the guy who’s keeping you safe?” he glares at me.

“How do I know you’re going to keep us safe? I saw what you did to that man last night. You didn’t even hesitate. And you showed zero remorse.”

“What’s your point?” he says coldly, his black eyes burning into me. I can see what I’ve said has upset him, but it doesn’t make sense. I’m only pointing out the facts.

“My point is, how do I know my child is safe with an assassin like you? How do I know you won’t hesitate to hurt her if she gets annoying? I will do anything to keep her safe from you, and anyone else,” I growl, like a mother lion, not backing down when it comes to my child.

He rolls his eyes and throws his hands in the air.

“If I wanted to hurt either of you, don’t you think I would have done it already?

I could have hurt you after I took the gun away; I could have chained you up instead of giving you a comfortable bed to sleep in.

I’m not a damn savage, Rose. You know this,” he huffs in frustration.

“I don’t know anything about you, Luka. I don’t even know if I ever knew you. The man I fell in love with all those years ago—he wouldn’t have abandoned me. He wouldn’t have ghosted me. So, no. I don’t know you.”

Luka looks down at the floor, dragging his eyes off me.

His expression has shifted. His shoulders have dropped from their tense position. If I’m not mistaken, he looks dejected.

With a heavy sigh, he turns his back on me, busying himself with the coffee machine.

“Please let us go,” I try again, sensing his softer side emerging.

When he turns to look at me, his head is tilted to the side.

His eyes pierce into mine.

“Who is the father?” he asks.

The question catches me completely off guard.

“Um,” I stammer, my mind racing.

“How old is she, Rose? How old is Lily?” he turns to me, his broad shoulders facing me squarely.

“She’s—"

My heart is beating so fast I feel dizzy.

This is bad. This isn’t good at all. What am I supposed to say?

“She’s two and a half,” I lie.

“Is that so? She looks older.”

“She’s just tall for her age.”

“Tall,” he says, narrowing his gaze. “Where is her father, Rose?” he asks as he steps closer to me.

I stand my ground, not looking away. I don’t want to appear guilty.

He doesn’t believe me.

“Why do you want to know?” I snap defensively.

“Because I think I have a right to know, don’t you?”

“She’s not yours.” I blurt out.

He swallows hard, taken aback by my blunt answer. I glare at him, determined not to give in to his questioning.

But when hurt flickers across his face, my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach.

If I had given this more thought, real, proper thought, I wouldn’t have lied. It’s not fair to keep a child from their father.

But he’s the one who chose to leave. He’s the one who chose not to be with me. And on top of all of that, he’s the one who kidnapped us.

Luka’s gaze is tightly locked onto me.

“I guess you moved on quickly, then. What? A few months? So my pushing you away, as you put it last night—it didn’t have such a bad impact on you after all.”

His voice is subdued, and his eyes are heavy with emotion. I wish I could read him better. I wish I could understand what he’s thinking. Is he angry? Is he upset? Why?

Why would he care, anyway? He didn’t want to be with me—so what if I met someone else?

Guilt and confusion eat away at me, and I lash out because of it.

“Who cares if I moved on? You weren’t interested. You broke my heart.”

He takes another step towards me, and I back up, my ass hitting the kitchen counter as I lean backwards into it, staring up at him and still trying to look strong. Anger is quickly overpowering my guilt.

“Are you still with him, Rose?” he asks, his body so close I can feel the shape of his muscles against me. Dammit, why does he have to be so freaking sexy? It’s not fair. It’s not helping me think straight.

“You don’t get to ask me that,” I say, heated, as I try to push him away from me.

He chuckles, not moving.

Instead, he places his hands on either side of me, wrapping his fingers around the edge of the kitchen counter, effectively locking me in place.

I gasp as he leans closer, his lips hovering above mine.

“Fine, I won’t ask you. But I reckon he’ll be upset to find out you’re with your ex.”

My heart is racing, my body screaming at me to stand up on my tiptoes and just kiss him.

It’s all I can think about. I can hardly even remember what we were talking about a moment ago.

Luka brushes one hand over my cheek, gently tucking stray waves of my blonde hair behind my ear.

His fingers leave a trail of heat across my skin.

I bite my lower lip, my eyes on his mouth. His lips curl into that sexy smile I have dreamed of so many times since I lost him.

There is no one else.

There has never been anyone else.

And if I’m really honest with myself, there never will be anyone else that I could love as intensely as I love him. Loved. It’s in the past.

Realizing what I’m about to do, and where it will inevitably lead, I snap back to my senses.

“I need to go. I have to, um—check on Lily,” I say quickly, turning my head to the side, away from his lips, away from those beautiful eyes and that gorgeous smile.

He clears his throat loudly and steps back.

Luka stammers for a moment, then says, “Yes, okay, you should check on her. I’ll make coffee. Do you still drink coffee? Two sugars, a lot of milk, dark and rich?”

I stare at him in disbelief.

“You remembered how I like my coffee?” I whisper.

His mouth drops open.

“Yeah, wow. Lucky guess,” he says quickly, turning away from me. “I take that as a yes.”

“Sure,” I say quietly, my eyes locked onto him. Again, I wish I could figure him out, this man who broke my heart, the father of my little baby girl.

What does he want from me? Why is he toying with me?

I sigh softly and bite my lip, then turn away, my head swimming with confusion.

Maybe it’s best if I don’t ask these questions at all.

What if I start having hope?

It took me years to stop waiting for him. Years to finally accept he was never coming back.

I can’t let my heart slip up now. It’ll break me if I start daydreaming all over again.

I hurry from the kitchen to our bedroom.

Inside, Lily is awake, sitting up in bed and staring around herself in confusion.

“Mommy?” she mutters sleepily.

“Hi, my baby girl, did you sleep well? Do you want to come to the kitchen and see if there’s anything yummy we can make for breakfast?”

“Mm,” she murmurs. She’s never been a good morning person. The first fifteen to twenty minutes after waking up, she’s confused and cute as a button. It always makes me laugh.

I scoop her into my arms and carry her towards the kitchen, hesitating for a moment before I walk in.

The delicious scent of coffee relaxes me. It gives me a sense that at least something is normal, despite everything else that’s going on.