Page 78 of Scarred Bratva King

Elena’s eyebrows lift in curiosity. “Can’t? Veronica, you’re worrying me. What’s going on?”

There’s a long pause, and I hold my breath, my fists clenched at my sides.

Finally, Veronica speaks, her voice trembling. “I’m pregnant.”

The words hit me like a bullet to the chest. Pregnant.

My thoughts spin, chaotic and unrelenting. She’s pregnant. With my child.

Elena leans forward, her hand covering Veronica’s. “Does Maxim know?”

Veronica shakes her head, her voice breaking. “No. And I’m not sure I’m going to tell him.”

My heart stops.

“What?” Elena looks just as stunned as I feel.

Veronica sighs, her gaze dropping to the table. “He’s not someone who can be a father, Elena. You’ve seen what he’s capable of. I’ve seen it. That day, when he handed me the gun and let me kill Marco, it made me realize something. That kind of power is addictive. The violence, the control—it’s who he is. I can’t hope to compete.”

“I thought that about Dmitri. You’d be surprised how deeply these Russians can love.”

“Did he tell you he used me as bait to bring Marco out into the open?”

She shakes her head. “He wants you to hate him.”

“I do.”

Elena’s voice softens as she smiles. “But you love him too, right?”

She nods, tears pooling in her eyes. “Love isn’t enough though, is it? Not when his world could destroy us both. And what about this baby? What kind of life would it have? Alwayslooking over its shoulder, wondering if its father will come home alive?”

Her words slice through me like glass.

She’s right. This world—it’s poison. It consumes everything good, everything pure. I’ve seen it with my own family. My mother. Katya.

And now her.

She deserves more. More than me. More than this life.

I step back into the shadows, my mind a storm of anger, guilt, and something deeper.

She’s pregnant with my child.

And she thinks I’m not capable of being a good father.

I should feel rage—at her for keeping this from me, at myself for proving her right. But all I feel is an aching emptiness, a sick certainty that she’s better off without me.

Because love is a weakness. And weakness gets you killed.

I walk away before they can see me, the weight of her words following me into the night.

36

VERONICA

Ipause mid-step, a stack of novels balanced precariously in my arms, and take a moment to breathe it in.

Marco is dead. He can’t hurt me. I got my bookstore. Got the apartment down the street. Got everything I thought I wanted.

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