Page 19 of The Pakhan’s Arranged Bride (West Coast Bratva Pakhans #2)

She couldn’t get out of the house fast enough this morning.

After our fight last night, and that crazily intense lovemaking, she didn’t say anything, and then this morning, she left pretty much as soon as she was up. I thought we could talk a bit this morning, but she made sure that wasn’t going to happen.

It’s obvious she is avoiding me, and it’s frustrating. I have no idea how to handle her. How can I force her to talk to me?

How can I make her stop stonewalling me?

I’m at my wits’ end, and I don’t know how much more of it I can take.

In my line of work I’m more accustomed to people doing what I tell them to do. But she’s not like that.

Now I’m distracted and can’t focus again. She keeps doing this to me. It’s affecting my life, this up and down, push and pull relationship that we have.

I had every intention of going into the office today, but after she left without talking to me, I was too agitated to face working around other people and I ended up working from home instead. Or I should I say, trying to work from home.

Even now, sitting in front of my laptop going over next week’s shipment schedule and the reports from the casinos, I’m distracted and annoyed.

Last night she was evasive when I asked her what was going on. To me, it was glaringly obvious that there was more to the story between Miron and Ulyana, but she was angry when I asked.

Her anger made it feel like she was being defensive, too. Does that mean she’s hiding something? She made it seem like I had no right to ask about anything.

The thought strikes at my nerves and I stand up, no longer able to sit still when all I can think about is her anyway.

I leave the office and walk through to the kitchen, opening the fridge, closing it, opening it again. There’s nothing of interest in there. I decide I’ll have a coffee, then realizing I don’t feel like one.

I’m looking for something to do to distract myself.

“Dammit, Ulyana,” I grumble to myself.

Leaning with my back against the kitchen counter, I fold my arms across my chest and shake my head.

I’m more worked up over this situation than I should be.

My agitation is all pointed at her, and maybe that isn’t fair.

If I pause for a moment and really consider what’s going on, if I’m honest with myself, I don’t think she’s the real problem here. Miron is.

Seeing Miron with her last night bothered me in ways I can’t explain.

The way he spoke to her and the way her face clouded with fear when she saw him. It boiled my blood. I’m still holding onto that anger for him—and mistakenly redirecting it to her. I’m not being fair.

I’m probably being too harsh towards Ulyana.

My anger should be directed at Miron, not her. And of course she would be affected that way by him. She has had a lot more exposure to that asshole than I have. He was a part of her family.

Or perhaps it’s myself that I should be annoyed with.

I got frustrated because I thought Ulyana was hiding something, but I’ve been holding back on so much as well, despite wanting a deeper connection with Ulyana. But what have I offered her? Apart from the mind-blowing sex, have I given her any reason to want a connection with me, too?

In a moment of clarity, I realize that she didn’t want to talk about personal things because I was being pushy, and she didn’t feel safe to share. Even if her fear and shock over seeing Miron is simply because he tried to kill her brother, I didn’t offer her a safe space to express that.

Dammit.

I’m an asshole.

Standing alone in the kitchen, I shake my head at myself and run my hands through my hair. I’m the one in the wrong.

I need to apologize.

Belle messaged me a while ago to tell me they were on their way back to my mom’s place to watch movies together.

At the time I was too angry to respond, which wasn’t fair of me.

I slide my phone out of my pocket and message Belle.

Me: Are you guys still at home watching movies?

Belle: Yes, she’s here with me.

Me: How is she?

Belle: She’s a little stressed, but she’s okay.

Me: I’m coming. Thanks for being there for her.

I leave right away, anxious to get to her and make things right between us. I need to explain that all I want at the end of the day is to keep her safe, but last night it came across as me being pushy and inconsiderate of her feelings.

The entire drive to my mother’s house, I am running over what I want to say to her. I really want to mend the distance I created. Every time I get close to her, things go wrong, and she distances herself again. I wish there was a way for us to be properly connected, a team. Trusting each other.

I want that.

Parking just outside the front door of my mother’s house, I climb out of my car and glance at the sky. It’s a gorgeous afternoon. The sky is patterned with white clouds and the breeze is soft and warm.

I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself, then head up the front steps, taking them two at a time.

The door is unlocked, so I let myself in.

“Hi,” I shout through the house.

“Mom’s not here, she went out for a minute. We’re in the TV room,” Belle calls out.

When I walk in, Ulyana glances at me, smiles tightly and then looks away again. She’s sullen. Belle picks up a throw pillow and tosses it at me playfully.

“Hey you. How was work?” she asks, picking up the remote and muting the program they were watching.

“Same old same old. And you guys? Been having a good day?”

The whole time I’m small-talking with my sister I’m watching Ulyana. She’s avoiding eye contact, fidgeting with a tassel on one of the pillows, biting at her bottom lip.

“Yana, can we talk?” I ask, my eyes locked on her.

Belle stands up. “I think I want a coffee. Does anyone else want a coffee?”

“No, thanks,” Ulyana and I answer at the same time.

Belle hurries out of the living room, shooting me a tight smile full of messages I can’t read.

I sit down next to Ulyana on the sofa, turning my body to face her.

“Yana, I’m really sorry about how I handled last night. I didn’t give you the space or security to feel safe enough to talk about how you felt without being judged, and I’m very sorry for that. It wasn’t my intention.”

She glances at me. Scrunches her nose. “Okay. It’s okay,” she says, then returns her attention to the tassel.

I reach over and gently take the pillow from her hands. She huffs and presses her lips together.

“Hey, look at me,” I ask her softly.

She does, but she’s reluctant.

“I really mean it. I’m sorry. I don’t want there to be this wall between us.”

She bites at her bottom lip again and closes her eyes. Something is bothering her. Maybe I had the wrong idea about everything. Either way, I needed to apologize. But how do I get her to open up to me now?

Ulyana swallows hard, as though she’s struggling for words. She takes a deep slow breath and opens her mouth to speak, but instead she starts crying. It breaks my heart to see.

I shift closer to her and pull her against my chest.

“Hey, little fox, come on now. I’m here. I’m here for you. Talk to me. Whatever it is I want to help.”

She scrunches her nose, fighting the tears, trying to shove her emotional responses down.

I wait a moment, holding her, looking down at her face, trying to read her. I can’t. Something is hurting her, and I don’t know what it is. Is it me? Did I do something?

When she leans away from me and uses her sleeve to wipe her tears, I say gently, “If I’ve done something—tell me. We can work through it.”

She shakes her head. “You didn’t do anything. It’s—" Her works cut off, her throat closing around them. She’s fighting tears again, but this time she manages to stop them.

My jaw is clamped tightly shut. Don’t say anything. Give her a moment.

My eyes are locked onto her face, studying every piece of it, desperate to know what she’s thinking.

She looks up at me.

Bright, shining hazel eyes, wide and fearful.

My heart races.

“I’m pregnant, Benedikt,” she whispers.

My racing heart stalls, missing a beat, my chest goes tight. My brows rise in shock and I take in a sharp breath.

“Pregnant?” I repeat in disbelief.

She nods. “I found out this morning. Belle took me to the doctor because I wasn’t feeling well.”

She went to my sister for help, instead of me. I want her to feel safe coming to me.

Pregnant. I’m going to be a father?

I never planned for this. This wasn’t in the cards.

My mind is racing, trying to fit several different puzzles together.

I close my eyes and take a slow breath. When I open them again, Ulyana is staring at me, worried, waiting for my reaction. I haven’t even said anything.

I need to respond.

My eyes narrow as I look at her beautiful face.

She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met.

She’s feisty and smart. Sassy and brilliant. She doesn’t even let me tell her what to do. She’s incredible.

And she’s more beautiful than words can describe.

A smile breaks out over my face.

I grab her hand in mine and I can’t stop grinning.

“We’re having a baby?” I say, laughing, still flooded with shock, but realizing now that I am going to have a baby with such an incredible woman.

I couldn’t be happier.

My heir will have the strongest mother, and the strongest father.

“You’re happy?” she asks cautiously.

“Are you kidding? I’m more than happy. This is amazing news.” I pull her into a hug again, this time one of celebration. She still seems confused, unsure.

“Ulyana, aren’t you happy?” I ask.

“We didn’t plan this. I didn’t especially want to be a mother—not yet anyway.” She bites her lip, furrowing her brow as she stares at me.

“You’ll make an incredible mother. I don’t doubt it for a second. And apart from that, I am going to be here for you every step of the way.”

“Even if—" She doesn’t finish her sentence, but I already know what she’s asking. I don’t want to think that things will ever go that way, but this is the reassurance she needs.

“Even if things don’t work out between us. No matter what happens, you are the mother of my child, Ulyana. I will always be there for you.”

Her shoulders drop a little and she lets out a sharp breath, almost a sob, a sign of relief, as though she just let go of a troubling fear.

I lift my hand and brush it over her cheek.

“Everything will work out perfectly. You’ll see. The only thing we have to focus on now is for you to be healthy, happy and stress-free.”

Suddenly, her walls are down, and she throws herself against me, letting her tears flow freely she wraps her arms around my neck and buries her face into the curve of my shoulder. I pull her onto my lap, holding her against my chest. I can’t stop smiling. We’re going to have a baby.

She’s my wife, and now the mother of my child.

She might be worried about what happens if things don’t work out between us—but things will work out between us. I don’t ever see a future where I could let her go.

She belongs with me.

She’s mine, and I will never let another man touch her.