Page 25 of Forced & Knocked-Up Bratva Bride

She was silent, her eyes blinking rapidly.

“Answer me!” I thundered, tightening my grip on her jaw.

She trembled, her body jerking in response to my sudden bellow. Alessia mumbled something inaudible, so I loosened my grasp, watching her closely. “You,” she said, her voice faint and gentle. “You’re responsible.”

My brows drew together, eyes squinting as I pulled away by a fraction, processing what she was claiming.

“The baby in my womb is yours, Nik,” she added, wiping her tears.

A storm brewed within me—rage, disbelief, and something even more sinister. My eyes roamed her body, taking in the slightest details to validate her claim. Of course, there was only so much that my gaze could ascertain, but from the looks of things, there was a possibility that she was telling the truth.

I was no expert in pregnancy-related issues, but I’d say that the growth of her belly should be around a few months—six, seven, maybe, which was also around the same time she slipped through my fingers.

“Mine?” I raised my brows in question, clenching my fingers into fists. “You ran away with my child in your womb?”

She steeled herself, her body stiffening with fear. The fury that burned inside me was almost spiraling out of control as a million thoughts overlapped in my head. But as angry as I was at her, I couldn’t deny the fact that this revelation had changed everything.

Now, I was forced to take drastic measures. Alessia had no idea what she’d done, no idea what awaited her. I had warned her of what would happen if she defied me, but she went ahead and did as she pleased. It was my turn to do as I pleased, and she definitely was not going to like what I had in store for her.

Chapter 19 – Alessia

I’d always known that this day would come—the day that my past would finally catch up with me. Running and staying hidden was only delaying the inevitable because one thing was certain as death itself: Nik's ability to find me. It didn’t matter where in the world I hid. It didn’t matter how fast I ran. He was always going to find me sooner or later.

He’d burned my father’s empire to the ground, sent my brothers fleeing for their lives like fucking fugitives. Because of him, the Romano name no longer commanded respect; the name no longer offered the same protection and privileges as it used to. That name was now a target, and in the eyes of the world, we were nothing but criminals.

Dad was no saint, yes. But neither was Nik, and he most definitely did not deserve to be framed the way that he was. The details of what he was being accused of were still very vague in my head. I had no idea where my brothers were, and my father had gone underground like a petty thief, hiding for his own safety.

The entire family was scattered, and even Uncle Roberto hadn’t been seen or heard from since the incident. Were they all alright? Were they safe wherever they were?

However, as concerned as I was about my family, the truth was that I was the one in bigger shit than all of them. I was the one trapped in this hellhole—again. This time under worse circumstances. I was the one at the mercy of the man who ruined not just my life, but everyone’s in my family. I was the one back in his mansion, uncertain of what fate awaited me.

I was back in my prison, the four walls that seemed to suffocate me even more than before. The air in this familiar space was nostalgic, bringing back memories that I had longburied. I sat on a couch, my slightly trembling hands rubbing over my belly as I watched the fire crackle in the massive stone hearth.

My heart was racing in my heaving chest, my jaw tightening as I struggled to breathe. Fear had washed over me, my anxiety spiking, my pulse quickening by the second. The fact that he was pissed about me running away while carrying his child meant that there was no telling what he could do to me. Nik was angry—furious—and he still hadn’t come over to have a talk with me.

I knew it was only a matter of time before that door swung open and he walked inside with a mean expression. Was I ready for this confrontation? Maybe. Maybe not. I had spent seven months preparing for this moment, but up until now, I still hadn’t been ready. My head ached from the mild car accident that had ended the chase. The light injuries I’d sustained had been cleaned and stitched, a testament to the fact that Nik was not a man I wanted to mess with.

He'd fired at me and caused my vehicle to skid off the road, regardless of the impact on my life. Nikita Tarasov was a dangerous man, and this action, this stunt he pulled, only proved that his cruelty had no boundaries.

My breath hitched in my throat when I heard the door open, and the rich scent of his cologne filled the air. I swallowed hard, bracing myself at the sound of his approaching footsteps: slow, deliberate, and menacing.

It was him. It was Nikita Tarasov, and he was here to talk.

Fuck! That was scary as hell.

Chapter 20 – Nik

I’d waited seven long months to finally exert my fury on her—to punish her for her silly defiance. Yet now that I had her trapped in the mansion, alone and at my mercy, things just weren’t the same anymore. Alessia was different from the woman I’d been hunting down this entire time. And as ruthless as she thought I was, there really wasn’t much that I could bring myself to do to her.

The struggle within me was real—the conflict between the hatred and fury that coursed through my veins like blood, and the sympathy that seemed to douse my anger. These two emotions were in constant war with each other, neither willing to yield to the other.

This unexpected pregnancy was a game-changer, a problem that I hadn’t seen coming. It was almost like with Alessia, there was always something surprising, something that I never anticipated, never saw coming from a mile away.

First, it was the way she managed to tempt me, the manner in which she effortlessly slithered her way into my heart. If I had seen the temptation beforehand, I’d have made necessary preparations to avoid it. But I hadn’t. I was so focused on dealing with Dante Romano that I neglected the most important part of my plan.

Giving in to temptation—falling for the flesh—was one thing. However, it was an entirely different matter to start developing some sort of affection for her. That newfound feeling I experienced was the reason she never left my mind all this time. I wasn’t sure how she managed it, but after that night together, she left a lasting impression on me, a mark on my soul that I couldn’t seem to wipe clean.

I hated the fire that just mere thoughts of her ignited within me all the fucking time. It was as though when she left, she took a part of me along with her. Judging by her condition—the pregnancy—it made sense now why I felt like she stole a piece of me.

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