Page 17 of Bought & Bred By the Bratva

Aleks turns slightly, careful not to move his wet nails. “They said there’d be snacks.”

“Daddy said sugar’s bad for your blood,” Nia chimes in.

Aleks lifts his teacup with perfect form. “Then I’ll pretend to enjoy this… chamomile air.”

Twenty minutes later, the kids are happily distracted with a cartoon, and I finally get Aleks alone in the hallway.

He stretches his arms, back cracking, and shakes out his legs. “Those chairs are a goddamn hazard.”

“You looked good, though. Very…” I smile. “Compact.”

“Don’t push it.”

He’s still got one nail painted purple. I think he left it on purpose.

And God, watching him with them?

It melted something in me.

“Hey,” I say quietly. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

He frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing bad. I just— I’ve been trying to find the right time.”

He steps closer. “You’re scaring me. Just say it.”

I hesitate.

Then blow out a breath. “I’m pregnant.”

He freezes.

Like every molecule in his body just shut down.

And then, slowly, his eyes darken.

“You’re serious.”

I nod. “I took three tests. I wasn’t sure when to tell you—everything’s been a little wild. I didn’t want to make it a wholething—”

He lifts me off the ground without a word.

Throws me over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“Aleks!”

“We’re going to the bedroom.”

“You’re not even going to—?!”

“I’m going to fuck you so hard that baby knows who its father is.”

I let out a breathless, half-laugh, half-gasp as he carries me down the hall, one massive hand holding my thigh, the other resting possessively on the curve of my ass.

He kicks the door shut behind us.

Locks it.

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