Page 88 of Bratva Boss's Secret Baby

He helps me to my feet, his movements careful and deliberate as he checks me for injuries. His hands run over my arms and shoulders, cataloging the rope burns and bruises while avoiding any pressure that might cause additional pain. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Did they?—”

“I’m okay. Sore, scared, but okay.” I lean into his touch, drawing strength from his presence after hours of believing I might never see him again. “The baby’s been moving, so I think she’s okay too.”

Relief floods his features, transforming his battered face into something that looks almost peaceful. He presses his forehead against mine, and I feel him trembling with the aftershock of everything that’s happened. “I thought I lost you. When I saw that video, when they said?—”

“I knew you’d come.” The certainty surprises even me with its strength. “Even when Vadim told me you were dead, I knew it was a lie.”

He frowns. “How?”

“I can feel you. I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s this connection between us.” I touch his face, fingers tracing the cut on his cheek with careful pressure. “I could still feel you and knew you were alive. It gave me hope.”

Multiple sets of footsteps echo in the hallway outside, moving fast and getting closer. Nikandr immediately positions himself between me and the door, reaching for a weapon that’s no longerthere. The tension in his shoulders eases when Maksim’s voice carries through the destroyed doorframe.

“Nikandr? Status report.”

“Secure. Targets neutralized.” Nikandr doesn’t move away from me as his second-in-command enters the room with two other men I recognize from the estate. “Sabrina needs medical attention.”

Maksim takes in the scene. His eyes dance over Vadim’s body with the knife protruding from his chest, Irina dead against the wall, the scattered weapons, and evidence of brutal hand-to-hand combat. His gaze lingers on me for a moment, and I see something that might be approval in his expression. Could he have possibly pieced together what happened just from observation?

“The building is secure. We lost two men, but the rest of Vadim’s people are either dead or fled.” He gestures toward the hallway. “Dr. Lewis is standing by with the vehicles. We should move before local law enforcement arrives.”

Nikandr nods and starts to guide me toward the exit with one arm around my waist for support. Each step sends pain through muscles I didn’t know I’d strained during my escape attempt and the subsequent violence. The adrenaline that kept me functional during the crisis is fading, leaving behind exhaustion and the kind of bone-deep weariness that comes from surviving something traumatic.

“Wait.” I stop walking and look back at the room where everything changed. “The guard I hit with the chair. Is he?—”

“Dead.” Maksim’s tone is matter-of-fact, neither approving nor condemning. “Skull fracture. Quick and clean.”

I killed two people tonight. I’m not sure how to feel about that as I try to take each breath and put one foot in front of the other.

Nikandr must sense my distress because he stops walking and turns to face me fully. “Look at me. You survived. You protected yourself and our daughter when no one else could. That’s what matters.”

I nod, but my voice is still shaky. “I’ve never killed anyone before.”

“I know. I wish you’d never had to.” He brushes his thumb across my cheek, and I realize tears are falling without my permission. “That’s one of the things I love about you—your heart, your compassion, and the way you see good in people even when they don’t deserve it.”

“What if it changes me? What if I’m not the same person you fell in love with?” The question unsettles me while gunpowder residue clings to my hands and the metallic smell of blood fills my nostrils. Our daughter moves restlessly in my belly, responding to my elevated stress levels with kicks and turns that remind me of everything I was fighting to protect.

Nikandr cups my face in both hands, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You think killing Vadim didn’t change me? You think the violence I’ve done over the years hasn’t left marks on who I am?”

I shake my head. “That’s different. You chose this life.”

“Choice is relative when you’re born into an organization like mine. The point is, I understand what you’re feeling right now—the guilt, the questions about who you are and of what you’re capable.” His voice is calm but firm. “The fact that you’re worried about how it might change you is how I know your heart is still intact.”

Maksim clears his throat diplomatically. “Dr. Lewis needs to check her over, and we’re running out of time before this place gets complicated.”

Nikandr nods and guides me toward the exit, though he keeps his pace slow and careful. The hallway outside the room looks different now, less threatening and more like what it actually is—a run-down corridor in an abandoned building. “What happens now?” I ask as we walk. “With Vadim dead and his organization?”

“Now we go home. We finish the nursery, we prepare for our daughter to be born, and we build the life we planned together.” Nikandr’s voice carries certainty that I wish I could feel. “The threat is over. You’re safe.”

“What about the people who worked for him? Won’t they want revenge?”

Maksim answers from behind us. “Vadim’s organization was held together by fear and personal loyalty to him. With him dead, it’ll fragment within weeks. The smart ones will disappear or try to make deals with other groups. The stupid ones will get themselves killed fighting over scraps.”

The practical assessment is reassuring. It’s finally over. We reach the warehouse’s main floor, where the evidence of the battle is scattered across concrete in the form of bullet holes and bloodstains. Bodies lie where they fell, now covered with tarps while Nikandr’s people finish securing the scene.

“The weapons we used…?” I start to ask.

Nikandr anticipates my concern. “Will disappear along with any other evidence that might complicate things. By the time policeinvestigate this, it’ll look like a dispute between rival criminal organizations that escalated beyond anyone’s control.”

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