Chapter 2 Sima
SIMA
He found me.
The dread settles heavily in my stomach. I can’t move, can’t think, can barely even breathe.
The man in front of me doesn’t seem to have the same problem, though. He reaches over slowly, and the faint click of the lamp switch makes my heart leap.
The room fills with light. I squint, eyes narrowing against the glow, but I can’t make out much yet.
At first, it’s just outlines. The broad shape of him, the heavy shadows. Then, as my eyes adjust, the details emerge. One by one. Slow and merciless.
The line of his shoulders, wide and unyielding. The hard angle of his jaw. Those whiskey brown eyes I used to know so well.
It’s him. Really him. Not a dream, or my paranoia winding me up.
Petyr Gubarev. Sitting in my living room like he owns the place and everything in it.
Including me.
My stomach sinks. My chest tightens until breathing feels impossible.
He rises and steps forward. I should shrink from him, but I’m rooted to the spot. My mind races while my body stays frozen into place. Letting him get closer, God knows why.
He’s still as big and impossibly gorgeous as I remember. Every inch of him is commanding and solid.
But that teasing little hint of a grin I used to know so well is nowhere to be found. In its place is something furious.
My heel edges back an inch. My hand twitches at my side. Could I make it if I ran for the door?
No. The truth hits hard. Not like this.
It’s too late into the pregnancy for anything like that. If I tried to run, I wouldn’t get so much as a single pinky toe off the porch before he had me in his hands.
And if he had to chase me—if I made him work for it—I don’t know what he’d do when he caught me.
So I stay rooted where I am, every muscle strung tight, and wait for the storm to break.
He jerks his chin toward the sofa. “Sit.”
My knees wobble, but I force myself across the room. Slowly, I lower myself onto the sofa opposite him. The cushion dips under my weight. My hands knot together in my lap to keep them from shaking, but I keep my eyes on him. I won’t give him the satisfaction of looking away.
“I’ll give you this,” he begins, too calm for my liking. “I’m impressed. You hid well. Better than I thought you could.”
He sinks back into his seat and leans forward, elbows braced on his knees.
“I might never have found you. But you should do better about leaving loose ends.” His mouth curves into something that isn’t a smile. “Not that you’ll ever get the chance to do this again.”
My pulse spikes. “What do you mean, ‘loose ends’?”
“The woman who gave you your new identification. Angel, right?” He says her name like it’s nothing. “She wasn’t hard to track down. People like her never are.”
I shiver hard. “What did you do to her?”
“Obviously, she’s alive,” he grits. “I’m not in the business of hurting women.”
For a second, my lungs work again. Then my fear turns into fury. “You’re right,” I snap. “You don’t hit women. You just lock them up and threaten to steal their babies.”
Petyr’s brow furrows instantly. His whole face goes stormy with rage.
I’m expecting him to erupt. Punch a wall, maybe, considering his track record with plaster.
But he doesn’t. His jaw ticks once, then he leans back, voice flat. “She’s done,” he says. “Retired. She’ll think twice before she ever takes one of your calls again or opens the door for you.”
Relief and guilt twist together in my gut. Angel is alive, but only because Petyr decided she could be. And now she’s lost her livelihood because of me. Because I dragged her into my mess.
I swallow hard. My gaze flits down to my hands. There’s no blood on them, not physically, but there might as well be. Shame bites deep into me.
“I’m taking you home,” he says.
What? Cold fear rolls through me. Home. What is “home” now? Does he mean the mansion? Back into that creepy cage? Under his control?
My hand presses against my stomach without me thinking.
He’ll take my baby. He said as much before. Now that he’s got me, nothing is stopping him from doing it.
The thought makes my chest seize, but I can’t push it away. Right now, it’s all I can think about.
“The baby’s a girl.” My voice cracks, desperate. “She’s not… not suitable for a Bratva heir.”
For the first time since he turned on the lamp, something other than icy fury passes across Petyr’s face. His expression goes unreadable, but I catch it: a spark of emotion in his cold, hard eyes before he smothers it again.
When he speaks, his tone is hard. “Then we’ll just have to try again. Until you live up to your end of the deal.”
My mouth falls open. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You promised to give me an heir. You haven’t done that yet. Until then, you’re bound to me.” His stare doesn’t waver. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”
Those words pull me back to everything I thought I’d buried.
Of course I remember.
How could I ever forget?
The first night at Petyr’s mansion, I bartered away my body. I thought it was the only way to secure a future. To remain married to him and give him an heir so he could meet the provision in his father’s will.
In exchange, he’d let me leave when it was over. A wealthy woman with a child, able to start again. Finally free of the shadows of the family I’d run from years ago.
For a while, I believed him. I thought maybe, for once, I could stop looking over my shoulder. That I wouldn’t have to wait in fear for my father’s hand to drag me back.
I thought Petyr could be my way out.
Then came the night he admitted the truth. He knew exactly who I was all along: the daughter of his family’s enemies, the Danilos, the ones who ordered the hit that killed his father and left his brother in a coma.
That’s how I found out that everything between us had been built on lies.
He told me he never intended to honor our deal. From the very beginning, he’d always planned to take the baby from me, then hand me back to the family I’d bled myself dry trying to escape. Once I was no longer useful to him, I’d become a bargaining chip.
He was never going to let me go.
And he was never going to keep me, either.
My hands tighten in my lap until my nails bite my palms. I might have been foolish enough to fall for his lies once. To fall for him.
But I’ll be damned if I’ll make the same mistake twice.