Page 65 of Sexting My Bratva Boss

Lev bows his head.

He knows I mean it.

Later, when I go inside, finally released from the fear that froze me in place, I don’t feel powerful.

I feel terrified.

She’s still asleep, lips parted, blanket slipped low. Her laptop is closed on the coffee table. A half-empty glass of water rests beside it. The soft scent of vanilla and clean cotton hangs in the air thanks to Kashmere.

And I am utterly ruined.

I kneel beside Audrey, careful not to wake her, and press my palm to the slight swell of her belly.

My child.

My blood.

I didn’t think I wanted a family.

I thought I wanted control.

But this?

This is the only thing that’s ever felt real.

Chapter 21

Audrey

Three months in, and I still don’t want to know the gender, even though they’ve offered several times at my appointment the other day. Konstantin hadn’t argued. He didn’t even blink. Just looked up from the page he was signing, nodded, and muttered something like,“Makes no difference. It’s mine.”

The calm in his voice made me pause. I thought a man like him—so focused on legacy—would demand a son. An heir. I thought he’d already picked out a name, a school, a future.

But he didn’t care. He just wanted the baby.

And when, alone in the car, he pressed a strangely chaste kiss to my lips, it made me think he might want me, too.

I hate the Spire.

It’s beautiful, polished, deadly. Every floor is clinically perfect. But now that I don’t need to be there every day, I can see it for what it is: a warehouse of risk. Maybe it’s the maternal instinct kicking in, but the last thing I want is to be seen enteringthose doors. So, when I step into the elevator this afternoon, stomach tight under the silk blouse I’ll have to forsake soon, I can already feel the pressure climbing up my spine.

Chrissy had offered to run the errand for me—some transfer documents that needed Konstantin’s signature—but I didn’t want her walking into the lion’s den. Especially not when I’ve seen how Lev watches her. I’m not sure if something’s there, but… either way, I’d like to keep her off their radar. She’s the only friend I have, and the only one I can confide in about my situation.

Better ifIsee him, even if it leaves my heart pounding in my throat and my thighs pressed too tightly together.

The elevator chimes softly on the 28th floor.

I step out.

And I freeze.

Konstantin is standing just outside the glass office doors. Not unusual. He does that sometimes—paces while he’s on the phone, gaze distant, hands in his pockets.

But this time… he’s not alone.

Olena.

There’s something about how they’re standing that feels… intimate. The cock of her thin hips, hand on her waist, draws attention to how feminine she is under all that intimidation. Olena is a beautiful woman in a harsh way—I’ve always known that, but now I’m seeing it in a whole different light as she leans into him, speaking quietly.