Page 24 of Sexting the Bratva Boss (Text to Touch)

Eva

I was taking a break on set that afternoon when my phone buzzed.

Sourpuss: company emergency tonight, won't be home. get some rest

I stared at the screen for several seconds, a wave of disappointment washing over me. He'd been especially busy lately, often coming home past midnight, sometimes not at all.

Me: OK, you take care of yourself too

I put my phone away and took a deep breath, forcing myself back into character.

At five PM, Elliot showed rare mercy and wrapped early. I'd barely gotten back to the mansion when my phone rang.

"Hello, is this Miss Eva Stone?" A nurse's professional voice came through the line.

My heart jumped into my throat. "Yes."

"This is Beverly Hills Concierge Medicine, calling to remind you about your 9 AM appointment tomorrow. Please remember to fast beforehand and bring valid ID. "

"I..." I gripped the phone so hard my knuckles went white.

"Miss Stone? Are you still there?"

"Yes," my voice came out shaky.

"When you come in tomorrow, we'll do an examination first. After we get the results and the doctor evaluates everything, we'll proceed with the appropriate procedure. We have very professional protocols, so you don't need to worry about anything."

"I understand. Thank you."

"See you tomorrow then."

After hanging up, I collapsed onto the couch. Tomorrow. It was really happening tomorrow.

My hand unconsciously moved to my stomach. It was still flat, but I knew my child was growing healthy inside me.

I closed my eyes, and Ruslan's face appeared in my mind.

I thought about how he'd shown up when I was at my lowest point, funding my acting career and surrounding me with the best resources available.

He'd convinced semi-retired Margaret to teach me for a month, lessons that changed everything for me.

He'd moved genius director Elliot to direct my latest film.

I remembered that crazy busy period when I missed Mom so much it hurt.

Suddenly, he'd just flown her from Montgomery to LA.

When I thanked him, he acted like it was nothing—just some trivial favor.

But I knew how far Montgomery was from LA, how many details went into arranging Mom's stay.

He'd quietly handled everything just so I could see her whenever I wanted.

I thought about how serious he'd looked when he showed me around Stellar Entertainment.

"This is your company, Eva."

The adoration in his eyes when he said that had almost spilled over.

Scene after scene flashed through my mind—all the ways he'd silently taken care of me. Tears slipped down my cheeks without me realizing it.

God, I really loved him.

The realization hit me with crystal clarity, so intense it nearly drowned me. Somewhere along the way, he'd become an essential part of my life. His embrace, everything about him—I was completely devoted to it all.

My hand gently covered my stomach. Our child was growing here.

Our child.

The thought made my heart race. Yes, this wasn't just my baby—this was mine and Ruslan's child.

The continuation of our bloodline. Just thinking about tomorrow, about this tiny life being removed from my body, made my heart hurt so badly I thought it might stop beating.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't bear to. I just couldn't.

Even if Ruslan and I were just a transaction. Even if this child would have no legitimate claim.

So what?

I was hopelessly in love with Ruslan. This baby was our precious connection, the most valuable gift of my lifetime. I was keeping him.

I wiped away my tears and called the clinic.

"Hello, Beverly Hills Concierge Medicine."

"This is Eva Stone," I said. "I want to cancel my surgery appointment tomorrow."

"One moment, please, let me check. Miss Stone, you want to cancel tomorrow's 9 AM appointment?"

"Yes, I'm canceling."

"Okay, it's been canceled for you."

"Thank you."

The moment I hung up, I felt like a massive weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

But immediately, new worries surrounded me.

I couldn't hide the pregnancy much longer.

Living together meant Ruslan and I were constantly around each other—he'd notice my body changing, weight gain, and morning sickness.

None of it would escape his attention. How long could I keep this secret?

One month? Two? Maybe I could delay until the second trimester, but the risk was huge.

If he discovered the truth, would he think I'd deceived him?

Our relationship could fall apart. I might lose him completely .

I tried to organize my thoughts.

Maybe I shouldn't hide it from him. Ruslan was the father—he had a right to know about the baby's existence.

I could test the waters about his feelings toward children! Ruslan had never explicitly said he didn't want kids.

Yes, maybe I could approach it subtly, in a casual way. Like when we saw news about some celebrity having a baby, I could gauge his reaction. If he showed even a hint of wanting children, I'd gather all my courage and tell him the truth.

But if it was the worst-case scenario—if he seemed opposed or reluctant—I'd find an excuse to separate.

I could say I needed to study acting in Europe, or that I'd gotten a new role requiring long-term overseas filming.

After we separated, I'd quietly handle everything myself.

I'd find a discreet medical facility for prenatal care and delivery, without Ruslan knowing.

Maybe in a year or two, when he got completely tired of me, I'd find a way to raise the child alone.

I was making good money now from appearances and endorsements. I could handle this on my own.

No matter what, I wouldn't regret this. This was my choice, and I'd accept all the consequences.

The next day on set, maybe because I'd made my decision, I was in surprisingly good form and sailed through the morning's shooting.

But in the afternoon, I got stuck on a crucial scene.

The scene required the female lead to show a complex emotional progression after discovering the truth—shock, anger, despair, relief. I tried several takes, but Elliot wasn't satisfied.

"Cut!" Elliot called for the fifth time. "Eva, your emotions are off. I need a progressive emotional explosion. You're only showing long-suppressed feelings suddenly breaking free, not the layered emotional transitions."

"I'm sorry, Director," I said, feeling frustrated .

Elliot walked over. "I made a film ten years ago called Silence. It's actually being re-released in theaters right now. The female lead's emotional work is textbook-level. Go watch it and learn something."

"Yes, Director."

"You can bring that boyfriend of yours along," Elliot teased.

I blushed, about to explain, but Elliot had already turned away to set up other scenes.

I texted Ruslan.

Me: free tonight? want to see a movie with me?

He replied almost instantly.

Sourpuss: what time?

Me: 8pm, theater near Stellar Entertainment

Sourpuss: I'll pick u up

At 7:30, Ruslan's car appeared right on time.

"What made you suddenly want to see a movie?" he asked, helping me with my seatbelt.

"It's an Elliot film—he wants me to study it. I just instinctively reached out to you."

His lips curved upward. "I'm honored."

The theater wasn't crowded. After I bought tickets, we chose seats in the back row.

"Want popcorn?" he asked.

"Yes! And Coke!" I said excitedly. Usually, these high-calorie treats were completely off-limits for maintaining my figure.

"Stay here." He ruffled my hair and got up to buy them.

Watching his retreating figure, warmth spread through my chest.

The mighty CEO of Yvann Group, willing to stand in line to buy me popcorn—the contrast was so endearing I couldn't help but smile.

The movie started—a classic Elliot arthouse film.

I snuck a glance at Ruslan beside me. He was watching with unusual focus, his sharp profile looking especially handsome in the flickering light.

I grabbed a piece of popcorn. After hesitating, I worked up the courage to hold it near his lips. He paused and turned to look at me. His gaze made me feel self-conscious—he was usually so disciplined, never eating junk food like this.

I was about to pull my hand back when he leaned down. His warm lips brushed my fingertips, his tongue deliberately grazing my skin. Then he took the popcorn along with my fingertip into his mouth.

An electric current shot from my finger straight to my heart, then spread through every cell in my body.

His eyes never left mine, burning so intensely I felt like I might melt. My face went bright red as I quickly pulled my hand back and turned to pretend I was focused on the movie, mechanically shoving popcorn in my mouth. But my heart was still racing like a wild deer.

"Tasty?" I heard his low voice in my ear, full of amusement.

I bit my lip and didn't answer, feeling like my ears were on fire.

He chuckled softly, reached over to take the popcorn bucket and set it on his lap, then naturally took my hand in his.

His hand was big, completely enveloping mine. His palm was dry and warm, carrying reassuring strength.

My heartbeat gradually calmed as I got absorbed in the tense, compelling plot.

Halfway through the film, when the female lead discovered her husband's betrayal and had her emotional breakdown—from restraint to collapse to final liberation—I was completely captivated, unconsciously gripping his hand tighter.

Ruslan immediately tightened his grip back, interlacing our fingers.

When the movie ended, we walked out hand in hand.

"Did you learn anything?" he asked.

"Yeah, the female lead's emotional transitions were incredible. The layering was so strong," I analyzed seriously.

"You'll do even better," he said with certainty.

"How do you know?" I looked at him.

"Because you're Eva," he stopped walking and looked at me seriously. "The actress. My Eva."

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest.

The night breeze carried LA's unique warmth. We stood there on the street, gazing at each other .

In that moment, I wanted so badly to tell him I loved him, to tell him we were having a baby.

Just then, cheerful laughter rang out nearby.

I turned to see a young couple walking past us, holding hands with a little girl who looked about three or four. The man had broad shoulders like Ruslan's, and he was laughing as he scooped up the little girl in her pink dress and lifted her above his head.

"Mom, look! I'm flying!" she squealed with delight, kicking her little legs.

Her mother, a gentle woman, looked up at her husband and daughter with eyes full of soft love.

They were so ordinary, yet so happy. Like a warm little universe existing apart from this chaotic world.

My gaze involuntarily followed their retreating figures.

My hand moved to my stomach. Maybe we could be like that too?

The thought kept tugging at my heart.

I turned back to Ruslan and said in what I hoped was a casual, light tone, "That little girl was so cute."

I carefully watched his expression.

His gaze softened, and there was even a hint of a smile. "You must have been even cuter when you were little."

My heart raced at his words. There was hope.

I gathered my courage to probe further.

"Seeing them makes you feel so warm inside. Sometimes I think about marrying someone I love, building a family together, and having a child that belongs to both of us. That kind of ordinary family life might be a luxury for many people, but it's exactly what I long for. What do you think?"

After saying this, I was so nervous I could barely breathe. I was betting all my hopes on his next response.

The smile on Ruslan's face froze the moment my words came out.

The tenderness in his eyes settled into something deep and unfathomable. Even more than calm—it was empty, cold.

He fell silent. Those few seconds of silence felt like slow torture.

The air around us seemed to solidify, making it hard to breathe .

Finally, he spoke.

"Eva," his voice was very calm, even soothing.

But that calmness felt colder than any heated words could have been.

"You're standing at the beginning of your career right now.

Your name is going to become famous throughout Hollywood, and even the whole world.

You're going to be the brightest star, win every award you've ever dreamed of. "

He paused, reaching up to cup my cheek with the same gentle touch. But his words cut down every hope I had.

"Family, children—those things are too early for you right now. They're constraints that would divide your attention and pull you away from the acting path you're meant to follow."

"What if I said I could accept all of that? If that's the price of having a child with the person I love, I'm willing to bear it all." I tried to force him to reveal his true thoughts, but I clearly failed.

"I won't let anything become an obstacle for you." His tone was rigid.

He sounded so rational, so considerate of me.

But what was he really expressing? Nothing but the two cruelest facts: I don't want children. At least, I don't want to have a family with you right now.

I get it now.

My heart felt like it was being submerged in seawater, sinking bit by bit into bottomless depths.

Looking at his familiar face showing such a foreign expression, I forced out a smile that was uglier than crying.

"Thank you, Ruslan. Thank you for caring so much about my career." My words betrayed my heart.

What I was really thinking was that I had to pretend nothing had happened for the next while. Then, after finishing Elliot's film, I'd find a good excuse to leave and secretly have the baby without Ruslan knowing.

I could do this.