Page 35 of Forced & Knocked-Up Bratva Bride

I’d never been the type to dwell on just one woman, never let myself go down the path of harboring feelings and nurturing emotions. It was not how I was raised, and I didn’t even think that I had it in me to care for a woman as deeply as I cared for Alessia.

This was uncharted territory for me. I’d never been in this situation before, and the whole thing was new to me. How could I hate the emotions she stirred up within me and still love how she made me feel at the same fuckin’ time? Why couldn’t I get her out of mind, even after trying so many times?

Alessia wasn't the first woman I’d been with over the years. But somehow, she was the only one who managed to overstay her welcome in my mind. I used others, and once through with them, I discarded them like they meant nothing to me—indeed, they had meant nothing. At first, when I took Alessia seven months ago, I thought it was business as usual, that once the thrill was over, I’d be done with her.

But that wasn’t the case because she proved to be different from the other girls I slept with. She’d left a lasting mark on my soul, and now, I craved her every day. Even in her present state, she was still gorgeous, elegant, and graceful. I’d never been with a pregnant woman before, and despite my reservations, she turned out to be a lot better than I had expected.

My connection with Alessia was way beyond the physical. It transcended our sexual bond and traveled deeper to unknown depths. I’d grown fond of her presence and enjoyed her company, even though we hadn’t actually had a decent conversation yet. A part of me wanted to know her more, to understand her personality and maybe even build a life together with her.

She had proven beyond a reasonable doubt that her love for our unborn child knew no bounds. This woman was ready to do just about anything to be a part of her son’s life, and I respected that about her. Beneath that respect was an emotion, a feeling that I didn’t want to name yet. I wasn’t certain about anything at this point, and that had been eating me up on the inside.

I shouldn’t be feeling this way about a woman who clearly lay with me because she had no choice. She loathed me and was ready to do anything for her son. The sex had nothing to do with how she felt about me. At least, that was what I wanted to believe. Maybe if I fed this idea to myself, it would change the way I felt about her.

Deep down inside, I knew there was a possibility of her growing feelings for me as well. But hope was a luxury that was too expensive for me at this point. It would make sense why she got all jealous when she saw Helen and me in the garden. It would also explain why she couldn’t really hold my gaze each time our paths crossed. Perhaps, it was one of the reasons she wanted to be around her son, around me.

This should have been the last thought on my mind, considering that I had bigger fish to fry; I had more important stuff to think about, like the wedding with Helen. But I couldn’t even focus on getting anything done or done well. Maybe if I confronted her about her feelings, it would all make sense, and I’d get a hold of my mind again—I’d be in control again.

But the question remained; even if that were to happen by any error of chance, what would I say to her? How would I even begin? I wasn’t the kind to talk much. Wait. How the fuck did I get here, thinking about how to approach a woman? Hell, no. This was clearly worse than I thought. She’d dug deeper into my head and soul than I imagined.

Tonight, she dominated my thoughts to the point where I thought I was losing my sanity. I had to leave my bedroom to get some vodka at the mini-bar downstairs. Anything to ease my mental stress and help me focus.

I descended the curved staircase, my polished exterior exuding confidence and composure. Meanwhile, beneath the surface, turmoil brewed, disturbing my peace and quiet. Under the soft light that illuminated the opulent space, I strolled across the living room. And that was when I spotted a woman standing in the garden, surrounded by lush greenery. I paused in my tracks and looked out the window for a better view.

It was her. Alessia.

My gaze shifted to the giant clock on the wall. It was almost 11:30 at night. What was she doing outside at this late hour? What the fuck was she up to? With Alessia, one couldn't be too careful because she was unpredictable. I underestimated her before, and she successfully slipped through my fingers. I wasn’t about to make that mistake again, especially now that she was carrying the future heir to my empire in her womb.

I watched her stroll through the garden, her steps slow and quiet against the gravel path. The garden lamps cast a soft, golden halo on the dew-kissed leaves, while the moon hung above like a silent sentinel, its ethereal glow bathing the hedges and blossoms in silver. Under the cold and distant stars, she glowed in the moonlight—so beautiful, she radiated like a goddess.

Without even realizing it, I found myself drawn to her. I parted the glass doors at the east wing of the living room and headed out into the garden. There, the air was cool, thick with the scent of jasmine and damp earth, and the greenery shimmered like it was holding its breath.

I kept my distance, standing a few paces behind, eyes fixed on her. I studied the gentle rhythm of her movements until she stopped at the hedgerow, her fingertips grazing the leaves as if lost in thought.

“What're you doing?” I questioned, my voice sharp enough to startle her.

“Jesus Christ!” she mumbled under her breath, her body stiffening at the unexpected sound that almost gave her a heart attack. Alessia turned around to face me, one hand on her chest, the other on her belly as if protecting her heart and the baby. “You scared me,” she confessed, a glimpse of fear flickering in her eyes.

I maintained a straight face with an unreadable expression. “It’s almost midnight. What’re you doing out here?”

Her lips curled into a faint grin, her head lowering for a moment before rising to meet my gaze. “I’m not trying to run away again, if that’s what you're worried about,” she said, her tone soft and gentle.

Quietly, I quickened my pace, strolling over to her with a slow and graceful movement. “What’re you doing out here, Alessia?” I halted before her, intentionally ignoring her attempt to soften the tension lingering in the air.

She let out an exhale. “I was just getting some air.” Her whisper was fragile, in a way that made me feel like I’d shattered something delicate.

Her glistening eyes met mine, widening ever so slightly as her lips parted by a fraction. I caught the subtle tremble of herbody and the faint quiver of her lips—not from the cold but from the struggle to remain composed.

Usually, I basked in people’s fear, reveling in their terror. But for some reason, that wasn’t the feeling right now; I didn’t appreciate the fact that she was so afraid of me.

“Aren’t I allowed to?” she asked, watching me closely with an expression so innocent it inflicted me with guilt. “If you’re not comfortable with me being out here, I’ll just go back inside.” She swiped a finger over her eye, as if wiping an unshed tear.

Alessia walked past me, shoulders slumped in dismay and eyes on the ground. Her reaction and the way she quietly headed back inside only intensified my guilt. I hated it, and before my brain could even process what was happening, my hand snapped out and seized her by the wrist. My grip was firm yet gentle, and when I pulled her close, a soft gasp escaped her lips, her eyes widening in a mix of confusion and shock.

She held my gaze, her protruding belly pressed against my torso, her breath hitching in bewilderment. Alessia had no idea why I held her closely or what I was about to do next. Neither did I. For the next few seconds, we just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes in silence. The air was charged with tension, but as the clock ticked by, I felt our connection building. I felt her pain, her aches, and all the agony I’d put her through.

Her eyes watered with unshed tears, and her chest rose and fell with slow breaths as she stared at me. Unspoken words filled the air, and the silence seemed to speak volumes. Before I could stop myself, I pulled her in, my hand cradling the back of her neck. She hesitated, and then seconds later, her head rested on my chest as if finding comfort in my warm embrace.

We stood there in that intimate position, with my arms wrapped delicately around her, protecting both her and ourunborn child. Starting now, things would never be the same again—I could feel it. I could sense the shift in the atmosphere.

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