Page 78 of Obsessed Bratva King

I grip the edge of the counter as my pulse spikes, blood rushing in my ears.

Darren.

The man who tried to destroy me. The man who hurt me.

He’s within reach.

But then anger flares up in me. “I thought I was drawing him in.”

Maxim glances from me to Ivan. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Tell me what?”

Ivan faces me, his face like stone. “You’re pregnant. It’s too dangerous.”

“That’s it? You just decided. Changed the plan without even consulting me. Am I your wife or your fucking concubine?”

“Not now,” he snarls, turning back to Maxim. “Where is he?”

Maxim jerks his chin. “Outside the city. A safe house on the river.”

I push away from the counter, my voice steady despite the way my heart slams against my ribs. “I’m coming.”

Ivan freezes mid-step, his gaze snapping to me. “No.”

I clench my fists. “I know how to shoot now. I should?—”

“I said no.” His voice is sharp, final. “I won’t risk your life.”

The air between us crackles, the same tension that’s been simmering for days now boiling over.

I step closer, gripping the doorframe behind me to keep myself steady. “You don’t get to decide that.”

His expression hardens. “The hell I don’t.”

I take a slow breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “I’ve already killed men, Ivan.” My voice doesn’t shake, but inside, my stomach churns with memories. “Without me, you wouldn’t even have the flash drive. I’m part of this.”

He steps forward, closing the space between us. “You’re pregnant.” His voice is quiet, rough. Desperate. “This isn’t about just you anymore. You need to protect the baby.”

My throat tightens. “This is me protecting the baby.”

His jaw clenches, his fists curling at his sides.

Maxim watches us silently, not interfering. Not yet.

I meet Ivan’s gaze head-on. “If you really believe I belong in this world, if you trust me—if you love me—you’ll let me help.”

The word love hangs between us, raw and exposed.

His face remains unreadable, but something flickers behind his eyes, something dark and unreadable. His fingers twitch at his sides.

Then, after a long, unbearable silence, he exhales sharply and turns away.

“We’ll talk later.”

My stomach drops.

That’s it?

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