Page 67 of Bratva Prince
She led me to a secluded area beyond the trail, stepping through a small clearing in the trees so we could talk in privacy, barely making eye contact as we walked. Her eyes kept darting from one direction to another, and the strange look on her face left me uneasy.
But there was something else in her expression. It was as if she were trying to communicate a message through her nervous antics and unusual behavior.
I was ready to step further into the woods when she grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “Wait, Ivan.” Her voice held a panic I’d recognized from moments when she was faced with true terror. My head tilted, waiting for her to continue.
She opened her mouth to speak, and for a moment, I thought she was going to blurt out some new information or warning, but she snapped her lips shut, shaking her head with tears building in her eyes. Her voice was barely a whisper as her words came out choked. “Nevermind.”
Warily, I continued walking, my boots breaking twigs and stepping over fallen limbs, holding her hand to help her cross them. She was hesitant to walk further, which confused me since it was her idea.
What the hell was going on?
Leaves crunched behind us, and I knew something was up. Someone had followed us here.
I felt the cold barrel of a gun against the back of my head—something I recognized all too well. You don’t go through life in the bratva and not know that feeling at least once.
“Ivan Koslov.” The thick voice spoke from behind me, but I kept my face pointed toward the woods, not bothering to look back. I knew who it was. Who else would it be?
“Arman Egorov,” I replied with nonchalance, as if a gun weren’t pointed at my skull.
Fucking Arman.That bastard always gets in my way. The sooner I could kill the son of a bitch, the better.
I heard a struggle, Willow’s voice crying out, “Let go of me,” followed by a loud thud. Through my peripheral vision, I could just make out Willow kicking the guy in the crotch, only to be jerked around and restrained by two more men, while the other guy fell limp, grabbing his sack as his eyes filled with tears.
A satisfied smirk crossed my face knowing that she hurt the man. She stood up for herself, which was more than she would’ve done a month ago. But my smile was wiped away when the realization hit that they were planning to hurt her.
Motherfucker.
Do what you want to me, but leave her alone. She has nothing to do with this!That’s what I wanted to scream, but I wasn’t stupid. Declaring your affection only ensured your loved one’s death. It was an unwritten rule among criminals.
I turned to face her, but Arman cocked the gun, an unspoken warning to face straight ahead and don’t look back. And he had me at his disposal, trapped. What could I do besides wait?
“Go on,” he taunted. “Look back. I fucking dare you. Check on Willow. Her tears will be the last thing you see before I blow your brains out of your skull.” A mocking laughter escaped him. “Actually, that would work out perfectly for me. Secure my plans. With you dead, I could finally take over your smuggling operations instead of sending out that mudak Dominik. Look what good that did me.”
Arman’s voice came closer to my ear from behind, the rank and foul smell from his breath close enough to my face to make me gag. “You know what? I think I will let you see my daughter. In fact, I’ll give you a front row seat.”
He backed away, chuckling as he told the men to bring Willow over there, probably pointing somewhere in front of me.
They dragged her to my line of vision, her eyes filled with tears and resentment. She was beyond pissed, and her eyes held that ferocity I’d seen on the island—a look I wouldn’t want to mess with.
“Ivan, I’m sorry,” she shrieked, her calm demeanor slipping within seconds. “Please,please,forgive me. I love you, Ivan. I really do, but I had no choice. He was going to kill our baby!” Her eyes lowered to her abdomen, and I stared in disbelief.
Our baby?
Did she just say ourbaby?
As if answering my question, she nodded slightly. But my mouth had hit the ground, hanging open in pure shock. Until the shock dissipated and it began to make sense.
Of course she was pregnant. That explained why she had been sick right before we were rescued. Or why she wouldn’t invite me to her home. She didn’t want to set me up—she was only protecting our child, like any mother would. And I wouldn’t have asked her to react in any other way.
The words keep hitting me like a massive tidal wave, knocking me over repeatedly. I was going to be a father. She was pregnant with my child. My baby.Ourbaby.
And Arman wanted to kill it.
But I’ll be damned if I let him.
I would painfully saw off each one of his fingers before I’d let them touch Willow again. Never would she worry about Arman hurting her or our child—not whileanyof the Koslov’s were alive, because she was family now. Even if I didn’t come out of this alive, I knew that Misha and Dimitry would take good care of them.
Family.I was going to have a family! My mind wanted to remember the day on the beach I’d revealed to Willow my secret desire to have one of my own. But I couldn’t. Not right now.
