Page 18 of The Pakhan’s Arranged Bride (West Coast Bratva Pakhans #2)

My blood is boiling, my thoughts racing. Anger is pulsing through me at an alarming rate as we drive away from the event. I can’t believe Miron had the audacity to talk to me so boldly, out in the open, not even ashamed or embarrassed to be the fucking asshole rat that he is.

I hate him.

I hate him so much it’s making me want to cry.

Adrenaline is pulsing through my body like lava and I’m trying desperately to keep my breathing even and calm, but it’s not working.

I lean into Benedikt, a source of safety in this strange situation. I didn’t expect to see Miron tonight. He shattered my sense of security. The illusion that he couldn’t get to me if I was in a crowded room.

Lifting my hand to my heart, I press my fingers into my ribs, begging my body to take a moment to realize I’m safe. But years of dealing with Miron have left me traumatized, and I’m triggered now.

It’s not so easy to stop this panic and the anger.

Benedikt doesn’t say anything for the entire ride home. He’s alert, watching every direction, his men are tense, ready for anything.

But nothing happens and we arrive at the mansion safely.

Benedikt hurries me into the mansion, locking the door behind us.

There are more guards around the property than usual, which I’m grateful for because I’m incredibly unsettled.

We head upstairs to the bedroom, sullen, my thoughts are distant, distracted.

“What happened back there?” Benedikt asks, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders and dropping it over the back of the chair.

“What do you mean?”

“Between you and Miron. What is going on between you two? It seemed like there was more to the story than just what I know about his relationship with your brother.” He sounds worried, and it tightens the knot in my stomach.

Do I tell him?

I sit on the edge of the bed to take my high heels off, rubbing the soles of my feet while I consider how I want to answer.

No one knows why I have so much hatred towards that man. I’ve kept it quiet, hidden, hoping to deal with it on my own.

A sift sigh escapes my lips.

“There is nothing apart from what you know,” I say, feeling the lie stain my heart in some way.

I don’t want to lie to Benedikt. But what choice do I have?

“Ulyana, if there is something going on that I should know about, you can tell me,” he says, stepping closer to me and reaching out to touch my face as he looks down at me with caring, gentle eyes. But in those eyes, I see a hidden current; he can see I’m not telling him everything.

I bite my lip and shift my eyes off him.

“Miron tried to kill my brother,” I say. It’s the truth. That alone is enough reason to hate someone.

Benedikt sighs loudly and steps back, nodding.

I look down at my hands, then quickly fold them in my lap to hide the fact that they’re still shaking.

Seeing Miron caught me by surprise. It was horrible.

It knocked the wind out of me and shattered the sense of safety I was building up around myself here in Las Vegas.

I’m not safe anywhere. Miron made a point of making that clear tonight.

I’m so angry to realize that he still has this hold over me.

I wish he had no effect on me whatsoever, but tonight proved otherwise.

And that makes me livid. Livid at myself, and at Miron. Why do I let him get to me like that?

Fear.

I clench my jaw, biting down hard to push the truth away. I don’t want to fear Miron. I don’t want anything other than to see him dead.

But I’m not ready to talk about it.

Benedikt sighs again, his frustration is weighing on my guilt.

“Ulyana, the way he was talking to you made it seem like there was more to the story,” he tries again, pushing me for the truth.

I stand up, angry that he won’t let it go. Needing him to let it go.

“Wouldn’t you hate him if he tried to kill your family?” I snap, defensively. My anger at Miron is bubbling over and getting thrown at Benedikt. It isn’t fair, but he won’t let it go, and I need him to stop—he’s trying to force me to talk about things that are too deep to bring to the surface.

“Yes, but the things he was saying were personal—directed at you , not your brother.”

“Benedikt, what do you want me to say? I hate him . He almost killed Nestor. I can’t control the stupid things Miron says. I have no idea what he was talking about.” My voice is getting louder.

“Ulyana,” Benedikt says, a low growl, almost a warning.

“Just drop it,” I shout. My fists are clenched at my sides, and I stand facing him squarely, pushing my shoulders back, trying to stand my ground. I won’t back down. I won’t be pushed into talking about this.

“Why are you getting so worked up, I’m only asking you what’s going on?” he shouts back, his eyes flaring in frustration as he steps closer to me.

The heat of his body washes over me.

We’re locked in a tense moment of confrontation with neither of us backing down. Neither of us says anything, both caught in our own frustrations.

The guilt is drowning me, but the anger is worse.

Benedikt looks just as frustrated for his own reasons.

I can’t take this anymore. I turn away from him, but he’s not ready to let it go.

He lifts his arm and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, forcing me to stay, demanding my attention—and the truth.

A strike of anger, like lightening, shoots through me and I lash out. I push my hands against his chest and shove him hard.

He tries to grab my wrist, but I pull away, even angrier that he’s still not getting the message.

“Ulyana, stop this immediately,” he shouts, trying again to restrain me.

I push him harder this time, all of my anger surging through me.

He takes a step back and bumps into the bed, sitting down on it and staring at me in disbelief.

But now I can’t stop.

I don’t know what to do with all of this emotion.

I fly at him, jumping onto him, and he falls back onto the bed, grabbing me around my waist and pulling me with him. My legs are straddled over his lap. My dress is riding up my thighs, my body rubbing against his.

For a moment, we are fighting each other. He won’t let me go, he won’t let me control the situation. My blood is boiling, my breathing is heavy and fast, and my heart is racing far too quickly.

The blind, white hot rage that snaps through my mind, in my desperation to have control—it causes the opposite to happen, and I completely lose control.

I grab Benedikt’s face in my hands and crash my lips into his, kissing him hard. His cock goes rigid beneath me as he thrusts upwards with intense force.

I cry out against his lips, clawing at his neck with my nails.

He growls in pain and grabs my wrists and locks them behind my back with one hand.

With the other, he tugs his pants open, his cock jumps free, pressing against me.

In one, forceful move of dominance, he rips my panties off my body and thrusts his cock inside me.

I scream, in pleasure, in frustration, in anger.

Benedikt releases my hand and grabs my waist, and I press my palms against his chest, pushing him into the mattress as I start to rock my hips, riding him hard, letting everything spill out of me, purging the overwhelming chaos flowing through my body.

Benedikt groans so deeply I feel the vibration of his moan rumbling through me like thunder.

The desire and intensity builds.

His hands are firm but gently, gripping my hips and guiding me faster, holding me in place and thrusting deeper into me.

When he tries to take control, my eyes flare with anger again, and he notices instantly. Easing his grip, he lets me take the lead.

I lean back, riding him faster, his cock moving inside me, curved against me, hitting the perfect spot, and my legs begin to shake. I moan loudly, not holding anything back.

My hair falls lose over my shoulders, wild and messy as I tilt my head back and shout his name.

When I cum, my pussy tightens over his cock, every muscle pulsing as wave after wave of ecstasy pulses through me, purging the night from my body.

Benedikt’s cock is rigid inside me as he explodes his own pleasure into me.

As the heat of the moment fades, I sit on top of him, shocked, spent and drained.

Benedikt gently lifts me off him and rolls onto his side, pulling me into his arms to hold me.

I snuggle against him in silence, feeling his heart beat against my cheek.

We lie like this for ages, and of all the things on my mind, the most clear thought is that I’m falling for him.

He knows exactly how to handle me. He reads me like a book, the words clear and crisp on the page. He knows what I need, and he gives it to me.

I’m falling for him.

Our connection is much deeper now than ever.

I can’t deny it anymore.

***

Early the morning after the gala I leave the house, telling Benedikt I have a breakfast date with his sister. She’s coming to fetch me.

The truth is that I don’t know how to handle this revelation of my feelings towards him.

And I don’t know how to handle the anger and fear I have towards Miron.

Everything is too fresh in my mind, and very overwhelming.

I need space and time to think, to clear my thoughts, to get away.

I am so stressed out that I feel ill.

My head is aching, a dull headache building just behind my eyes, and my stomach is carrying all my anxiety—I’m literally sick from the stress.

All I want to do is forget about it for a moment.

Belle is amazing.

She takes me to a coffee shop in town, and we talk for hours about nothing in particular, but it’s so good not to have to focus on the big things and to just relax and laugh and joke around in a lighthearted way.

She can see something is bothering me, though, and while she asks about it, she doesn’t push when I don’t want to answer.

“How was the gala last night? What did you wear? I had an invite, but I wasn’t in the mood,” she says, sipping her second coffee.

We had English muffins for breakfast, toasted with salmon and cream cheese. My stomach isn’t too happy with it.

“It wasn’t so great. My stepbrother showed up,” I sigh.

“Oh my word. Miron ? But everyone has been looking for him. So, he just walked in there, not worried at all?” she blurts out, shocked.

“Benedikt and I were both stunned to see him there.”

Belle falls quiet as her eyes trace over me.

She can sense my hesitation to discuss my stepbrother. And the shift in my energy at the mention of his name.

“You know you can talk to me about stuff. I won’t tell my brother. It’s private between you and me.”

I nod. “I know, and I appreciate that.”

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” she asks, setting her coffee mug down and tilting her head to the side. Her eyes are soft and full of love. She’s such a sweet person. She has no idea how much I appreciate her. But I’m still not ready to talk about Miron.

A wave of nausea tightens my stomach as the stress thickens. I groan, placing my hand over my belly.

“Are you okay? You’ve gone super pale,” she says, worried, reaching across the table to press her hand against my forehead.

“I’ve been feeling ill. Nauseas. I think it’s just stress,” I shrug, trying to brush it off.

“Mm. No, I don’t like it. Come on. I’m taking you to the doctor.” She stands up, gathering her things.

“I don’t need to go to the doctor,” I protest, standing up too, but as I do, the nausea gets ten times worse, and I quickly sit down again.

“You definitely need to go. Besides, my brother would never forgive me if I didn’t take you after I’ve seen how ill you look. Even if the doctor can give you something for the nausea—and the stress—it’ll be worth it.”

I sigh, giving in, not having the strength to argue with her.

She’s my ride home anyway, so I kind of have no choice but to go with her.

Belle takes me to the Karamazov’s private doctor, and he sees me right away.

Belle comes in with me because I’m still reluctant to admit I need a doctor.

“So, what seems to be the problem today?” the doctor asks as I sit awkwardly on the edge of the white bed, my legs hanging off the side.

“I think it’s stress, um, but I’ve been very nauseous and tired, and I’ve had a headache.”

“Mm.” He nods thoughtfully. “And when last did you have your period?” he asks, checking over a list.

I narrow my eyes, caught off guard by the question. “It was—"

When was it? Shit. No, it can’t be that. My heart starts racing.

“Six weeks ago,” I answer, a soft whisper.

The doctor’s eyes shoot to me with a knowing look. I shake my head. Belle is staring at me wide-eyed as well.

“We’ll start with a pregnancy test then, and we can take it from there. I’ll take a small blood sample, and we’ll have the results in a matter of moments.”

The doctor goes about the task of taking my blood, and I sit dumbfounded. Silent. Terrified. My thoughts are racing.

I can barely even look at Belle, who is just as quiet, although she looks more excited than worried.

The doctor walks back into the room with a piece of paper in his hand. “Well, we have our answer, and it explains exactly why you’re feeling as you are. You are pregnant.”

My mouth drops open.

Belle grins, but when she sees my expression of horror, she hides it.

I hardly hear anything else that the doctor says, because the ringing in my ears is too loud. I walk out of his office with a list of recommendations for vitamins, and I still can’t believe what just happened.

In the car, Belle reaches over and touches my leg. “Are you ok?” She asks.

“I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “Not really. We didn’t plan for this at all.”

“Sometimes the most amazing things aren’t planned for,” she tries to reassure me.

I turn to look at her. “Please, don’t say anything to your brother,” I say nervously. It’s a big secret I’m asking her to keep.

“I won’t. You need time to process the news first, that’s understandable. Like I told you earlier, the things we talk about are private.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” I whisper, looking down at my hands, knotted in my lap.

I have no idea what I’m going to do.

This couldn’t have come at a worse time.

I have a plan—and this wasn’t part of it.

“Benedikt isn’t home yet,” I say, realizing I don’t want to be alone right now.

“I know, he’s still at the office. Why?” Belle asks.

“Do you mind—I just, I don’t want to go home to an empty house.”

“Come hang out with me. We can watch something on Netflix. I’ll tell Ben that he can fetch you from Mom’s place later.”

I nod and Belle takes the next corner to turn around and take us both back to her mom’s place.