Page 2 of Pregnant By the Bratva

The offer hangs between us, a dark promise laced with danger. I know what working for him means—what it wouldmake me. I’d be crossing a line, stepping into a world where morality is nothing more than a shadow on the periphery. But I can’t deny the pull of it, the desperate need for financial support that’s gnawed at me for years.

I think of Luke, his pale face and fragile body lying in that hospital bed. The fear in his eyes when I told him I’d find a way, no matter what it took. I’ve made a promise, and I don’t break my promises.

“What’s the catch?” I ask, my voice quieter now, edged with the wariness that’s been my constant companion.

Kace’s smile widens, just a fraction. “No catch. You work for me, I pay you well. You’ll have what you need, and your brother will be taken care of. Know this, Sarah—once you’re in, there’s no getting out. You’ll be part of the family, for better or worse.”

Family. The word makes me want to laugh, but I don’t. There’s nothing funny about this. He’s offering me a lifeline, and I’m not in a position to refuse. Even if it means losing a part of myself in the process.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I’ll do it.”

Kace nods, as if he expected nothing less. “Good. You can visit your brother tomorrow, and then you start working for me.”

The door opens again, and the men with the snake tattoos step forward, their expressions as cold as before. I push myself to my feet, ignoring the wobble in my knees. As I follow them out, I don’t look back at Kace.

The men flank me on either side, their footsteps echoing in the narrow hallway as we move deeper into the belly of the building. I’m still unsteady on my feet, but I force myself to walk straight, to keep my head up. Every instinct screams at me to fight, to run, but there’s no point. I’ve already chosen my path.

We reach a door at the end of the hallway, a heavy thing made of dark wood, and one of the men with the snake tattoo—this one on his hand—pushes it open. He jerks his head toward the room, a silent command for me to go inside.

I hesitate, glancing at him, then at the other man. His tattoo is visible just above the collar of his shirt, the snake’s tail curling around his throat like a noose. They both look at me with the same blank expression, devoid of any warmth or empathy. They’re not here to comfort me; they’re here to make sure I don’t step out of line.

“This is where you’ll sleep tonight,” the man with the throat tattoo says, his voice low and clipped. “Boss will run a background check, make sure you don’t have any nasty surprises waiting for us.”

A shiver runs through me at his words. They’re going to dig into everything—my past, my life, my mistakes. I can only hope that what they find won’t land me in an even worse situation.

I step into the room. It’s small, bare, with just a bed and a nightstand. The walls are painted a dull gray, and there’s a single window on the far wall, covered by thick blinds that block out the world beyond.

I turn to face the men, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. “I need to call my brother,” I say, tryingto keep the desperation out of my voice. “He’ll be worried if he doesn’t hear from me.”

The man with the hand tattoo shakes his head. “No calls. You’ll see him tomorrow. Arrangements will be made.”

“But—” I start, but he cuts me off with a look that makes it clear this conversation is over. “You’re here now. Do what you’re told, and things will go smoothly.”

I bite back my frustration, realizing that any attempt to argue would be pointless. These men aren’t going to give me anything. Not information, not comfort, not even a sliver of hope.

“What’s going to happen tomorrow?” I ask, though I already know the answer. I just need something, anything, to hold on to.

The man with the throat tattoo gives me a cold smile. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

With that, they turn and leave, the door closing behind them with a heavy thud, sealing me in. The lock slides into place with a finality that makes my heart skip a beat.

I’m alone now, truly alone, with nothing but my thoughts and the low hum of fear that has settled in my chest. The room is too quiet, the kind of quiet that makes your mind wander to dark places. I sit down on the edge of the bed, the mattress firm and unyielding under my weight.

The urge to cry creeps up on me, but I push it down. Tears won’t help me now. I think of Luke, of his smile, of the way he used to run to me when he was scared. He’s the reason I’m here,the reason I have to keep going. Whatever happens tomorrow, whatever Kace Preston has planned, I have to survive it. For him.

I look around the room again, trying to find something, anything, that might give me a sense of control. There’s nothing. No pictures, no decorations, nothing personal. It’s a prison, plain and simple, and I’m the one locked inside.

Taking a deep breath, I lie back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The darkness presses in from all sides, but I refuse to let it swallow me. I’ve come too far to give up now. I close my eyes, willing sleep to come, even though I know it will be elusive. Tomorrow, I’ll face whatever Kace throws at me. I’ll do what I have to.

For Luke, and for the chance to reclaim some part of the life that’s slipping away from me.

Chapter One

Ivan

The air in the room is thick with tension, the kind that settles into your bones and makes your skin prickle. I glance around the long table, taking in the faces of the men who command respect and fear in equal measure. The dim light overhead casts sharp shadows across their features, highlighting the hard lines etched by years of violence, power, and control.

My brother, Kirill, sits to my right, his expression as unreadable as ever. Violet, his wife, is beside him, her posture regal, though I catch the faint crease of worry in her brow.

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