Page 21 of Forced & Knocked-Up Bratva Bride

The door creaked open, and Dad walked inside with a hand in his pocket. His gaze discreetly swept over my cozy spacebefore settling on me. “You left the table in a hurry,” he began, eyes pinned on me. “I thought that I should check on you.”

Weird. He’d never done so before.

My brows rose just a bit, a glint of shock flickering in my gaze.

“Oh, come on, I’m not that bad,” he teased, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I didn’t say that you were,” I replied, chuckling.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, then gestured at the space beside me. “May I?”

A grin tugged at the corners of my lips. “Sure.”

With a deep sigh, he sat on the mattress, smoothing his palms over his lap. “Are you alright? You don’t look well.” He felt my forehead with his hand.

“I’m fine. It’s just….” I paused, groping for the perfect excuse. “The whole kidnapping thing is still taking a toll on me. I guess I just haven’t fully recovered.”

“I understand,” he said, holding my gaze. “You survived what most people don’t, and you came out unscathed.” His voice was filled with pride, as were his eyes. “You outsmarted Nik Tarasov, Alessia. No one has ever done that before.” He placed a hand on my shoulder.

My lips parted into a faint grin as I felt the weight of his strong hand. His words, as comforting as they should sound, only seemed to stir up my anxiety. Now wasn’t a good time to be proud of me, and that hurt like hell because I’d always craved his validation. How could I enjoy this rare moment with my father, knowing full well that I had messed up big time? Dang it.

“Dad,” I called softly, my heart hammering in my chest as I managed to meet his eyes. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

He squinted, his head tilting slightly to the side. “Okay.”

I paused, gathering my thoughts together. “I need a break from all of this. I need to go somewhere I can…think straight.”

He stared at me in silence, his expression softening with each passing second. I thought he was going to object, but to my surprise, he didn’t. He just looked at me and asked, “Where do you have in mind?”

I felt a wind of relief blow across my face, and I didn’t realize when I heaved a sigh. The plan was to go somewhere far, for at least a year, so I could keep the pregnancy hidden. At the moment, I didn’t have any plans on what to do with the baby once it was born. However, I’d cross that bridge when I got there.

For now, I just needed to convince my father to buy into my idea.

Chapter 16 – Nik

The room was dimly lit, bathed in deep amber and shadow. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, mingling with the gentle swirl of smoke. A long mahogany table dominated the center of the room, surrounded by serious-faced men in tailored suits and expensive watches.

Dark wood paneling adorned the walls, with the windows covered by velvet drapes. The private room had only one source of light: the chandelier hanging above, its warm glow casting over mean faces.

This was the Bratva inner circle—lieutenants, smugglers, financiers, enforcers—sharks in suits plotting against the enemy. Suggestions were made as murmurs of agreement rippled through the table. Maps were unrolled, and trade routes were marked in red ink. Fronts, docks, and warehouses were all labeled and waiting to be carved out.

The room hummed with tension, anger, and rage swirling around these powerful men, each one with an ax to grind with Dante Romano. His empire was in grave danger, and everyone in this gathering supported making him suffer. The big question was, “How?”

These men were busy deliberating the best way to hurt Dante Romano, the most effective and gruesome way to make him feel their fury. However, they were all blinded by their rage and failed to see the bigger picture.

They were shallow-minded, unable to see beyond their anger because right now, they weren’t in control; their emotions were. They wanted to make him bleed, to cut him limb from limb. And as exciting as that appeared to be, it was a dumb move, one Romano would see from a mile away.

“The Italians have declared war, and we must act now!” Boris snapped, slamming a palm against the table, shaking the ashtray. “We’ve been here all day, and yet no decision has been made. The longer we wait, the more those assholes have the upper hand.” The anger in his voice couldn’t be any more glaring.

“Boris is right,” Dmitry, more measured, chipped in, leaned back in his chair, fingers toying with a Rubik’s cube. “We’ve waited long enough. I mean, it’s been weeks already.” He set the object on the table’s surface and sat upright, his gaze sweeping across the room. “I say the time to strike is now,” he declared.

“I agree,” Yuri, the one-eyed demon, concurred, his baritone voice deep and even. He smoothed his white hair backward, his black eye patch gleaming in the soft light. “We split his influence in two. Start with Naples, then move on to Rome.” As he spoke, he tapped the locations on the map spread out over the table. He raised his head, shifting his gaze across our faces. “We starve his allies, drain his funding. And then, piece by piece, we break the bastard.”

“Yeah, I like this plan,” Dmitry said, a wicked smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “If executed properly, we’ll burn the Romano empire to the ground.”

The others nodded in affirmation, some leaning in to murmur in one another’s ears.

However, despite their so-called conclusion, I remained silent.

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