Page 156 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

It’s like stepping into a staged apartment. The kind people tour before they decide if they want to pretend they belong.

"Did you just move in?"

"Nope, I've been here for a few months now."

“And you said your baby's with your dad right now?”

Nati turns slowly, her smile flat and strange. “Did I?”

The air drops a few degrees. My skin prickles.

I grab my phone from my pocket acting on instinct.

She watches me for a second too long, and then, in one clean, vicious motion, she snatches my phone from my hand and hurls it across the room.

It slams into the wall with a loud crack, screen shattering on impact.

My heart lurches.

I take a step back.

She watches me with wide, unblinking eyes. Then she laughs, a sharp, joyless sound that echoes too long in the stark room.

"Were you going to call the baby daddy to come save you?" She takes a step closer. "He’ll leave you the same way he left me."

My breath catches.

Something changes in her face. Her features harden, the sweet mask she wore all morning cracking down the middle.

Her smile is gone. Her jaw tightens. There’s a strange flicker in her eyes, something unhinged. Familiar.

That same look she had during yoga class that I thought I misinterpreted.

But now I’m sure of it. That unease, the flicker of something cruel beneath the kindness.

It was a warning.

And I missed it.

She tilts her head, grin widening into something feral. “Did you enjoy the love letters I sent?” she purrs. “I’m still a little sad Alessio never wrote back.”

My stomach turns to ice.

She starts pacing, no, stalking, across the room, laughing maniacally. It’s sharp, high, cracked around the edges.

“He should’ve. I mean, I put so much effort into those little notes. And the one at your apartment? That was my favorite.” She clutches her chest like it’s a romantic gesture.

Then her smile drops.

“I’m honestly surprised my father hasn’t killed him yet.”

The blood drains to my feet. “Your… father?”

She pauses, eyes gleaming. “Mikhail Orlov ring a bell?” Her tone is sing-song. “He’s got a reputation, I hear.”

It crashes into me like a freight train.

Nati. Natalia. The Bratva boss’s daughter.

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