Chapter 31 Natalya
NATALYA
I’m so fucking tired of crying. If I weren’t in the kind of situation that might make anyone cry hysterically every few minutes, I could blame pregnancy hormones.
It’s just… I love him and I hate that I do. In a perfect world, I’d have told him as soon as I found out. In a perfect world, I’d be sure that he would be a wonderful father to this baby. Maybe by now, we’d be planning our wedding.
I’m standing with my back to the door, looking down at the suitcase I’d started packing earlier today.
Everything is spilled out on the floor, disregarded in a moment of passion.
When I close my eyes, I can feel his touch on my skin and the warmth of his kisses.
Why can’t this be like in the fairytales I used to read as a little girl?
Why can’t this Bratva king be my knight in shining armor?
I almost laugh at that ridiculous train of thought. Bratva King and Knight in Shining Armor aren’t exactly synonymous with one another. If he truly were that for me, then we wouldn’t be here.
I kneel down to the clothing and upturned suitcase.
I’ll have to get my phone back from him and I’ll need to call Ilya and tell her what happened.
I don’t expect anyone will be coming after me anymore.
At least he made sure of that. He kept his word to me about protecting me. That counts for something.
I don’t know what will happen to my father’s Bratva, but I’m sure without their leader, they’ll leave me in peace as well. I was never on anyone’s hit list except his, anyway.
Maybe in a few years, I’ll leave the city.
I and this little one can have something different from this, I guess.
I have no idea how to go about it. This existence, this life on the outskirts of the Russian Brotherhood is the only one that I’ve ever known.
I hope I can be a good mother in the end.
I can’t be any worse of a parent than my father.
I get the clothes packed and close the suitcase. It’s still hours before morning, but I should at least leave a message on Ilya’s voicemail. I’ll need Anton for that.
I leave my room. The door to his room is closed, but there’s nothing but darkness coming from underneath it. I wonder if he’s sleeping…
I hear the faint sound of glass clinking somewhere downstairs. Nope. Still awake. He’s probably in the kitchen or maybe having a drink in the living room.
I’m hesitating. My bare feet are digging into the carpet. Maybe I should wait until morning. Ilya would understand if I called her at the last minute tomorrow. Especially under the circumstances.
Or I can just ask for my phone and get it over with. I sigh. I don’t know if I have the bandwidth for any more of this. Knowing now that she’s ready to take me back in, no questions asked, sounds like a plan to me.
I walk down the stairs to the first floor. He’s not in the living room or the kitchen. Maybe I was hearing things. He could be sleeping…
I make the trek all the way down the hall to the study and the smell of his cologne greets me. A warm light emanates from under the closed door.
I raise my knuckles to the door only to notice that it’s cracked a little. I peer in, opening the door a little.
He’s sitting at his writing desk in the corner, drink in his hand… and what looks like a small black and white photo in the other hand. His eyes are as dark as coals as he traces the lines of the photo and takes a drink from his glass.
He sets the photo down on the desk and says, “You might as well come all the way in, Devushka. No sense standing in the doorway.”
His pet name for me strikes me like a bell and I move before I’m fully aware of it. I open the door and step in and he glances up at me, a smile playing at his lips.
“How did you know I was there?”
“Even barefoot, your steps are heavy as fuck,” he says. “I suppose you’re here for a reason?”
I look at him. He’s not drunk, but he doesn’t look well. His eyes are weary as he stares up at me and his neatly trimmed beard has a shabby appearance to it. “You’re looking at old photos?”
He glances at the photo on the desk and scoffs. Then he picks it up and holds it out to me. I walk over and take it from him. An ultrasound of a baby, or at least that’s what it looks like.
“Don’t worry,” he says, “It’s not mine. I’m not even sure it’s a baby, if we’re being honest. For all I know, this is an ultrasound of a dolphin fetus.”
I hand it back to him and he opens his writing desk and puts it back.
“Kat’s great deception,” he says. “She put it in an envelope and gave it to me over dinner before announcing that she was pregnant. Right after I told her we weren’t right together.
She said, ‘You can’t leave me and the baby.
’ She actually said that to me.” He shakes his head, a bitter smile on his face.
“And you want to hear something strange?”
I nod.
“I was happy. In that moment, when she told me that I was going to be a father, I was happier than I’ve ever been in my life.
It was like everything was forgotten. All the lying, manipulation…
all the bullshit we’d been through was washed away with one fucking sentence.
You know, we were at a point in our relationship where every morning that I woke up next to her, I wanted to strangle her with my bare hands…
but the minute I found out that she was pregnant, all that bile, that animosity, it was gone.
” He snaps his fingers. “Just like that. Crazy, right?”
I don’t know what to say. I’ve never seen him like this. I clear my throat and start to speak, but he stops me with, “You can’t go, Natalya. Not like this.”
He’s looking at me with this big, vulnerable eyes. He means what he’s saying now. He stands and walks over to me. “I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding between us, Natalya. I want this baby and I want you. Don’t leave.”
I don’t know what to say. I stammer, trying to find the right words. “Y–You said… You told me to leave. You said—” I stop and take a breath. “You said that I’m free to leave if I want to.”
“I know what I said. Now, I’m saying… I’m asking you not to leave.
” He pauses, his mouth twisting as if trying to find the right words.
“I’ve always wanted to be a father, Natalya.
I only got to have one for a short period in my childhood.
And I always swore to myself that if I ever do have the chance to be a father, I would do everything I could to be better than him.
Part of that is deciding not to let you raise this baby alone. ”
I tilt my head at him. “Anton, I… What are you saying? Is it me you really want, or…?”
He puts his hands on my shoulders. “I want you to be mine. I don’t know how it’s happened, but you’re a part of me now.
As strange as this sounds, I am in love with you.
I think I’ve loved you from the very start.
You’re everything that I could ever need or want.
All that being said, I want to be a father to this baby. ”
I don’t let him finish. It’s too much. It’s all just too much.
My breath starts to hitch with sobs and I throw myself into his arms. The moment my lips connect with his, it feels like a home that I’ve never had.
He wraps his arms around me and it’s like a wall of protection, a warm blanket of love that I’ve always needed.
“Stay with me, Devushka,” he murmurs against my mouth. I melt against his body at the sound of his name for me. “Stay.”
“I’m not leaving.” My voice shakes with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He lifts me up, sweeping me off my feet and to the couch. He pauses, closing his eyes and turning from me. The effort was a little more than he expected thanks to the wound in his side. I touch his face gently. “You’re hurt. Don’t overextend yourself.”
He smiles and with a little chuckle he responds with, “You’re as light as a feather, Little One.”
He pulls at my shirt and I help him get it up and over my head. He kisses me, his hands on my breasts. His thumbs move over my nipples through the thin material of my bra, and I shudder. They’ve gotten so sensitive.
“I want to taste every inch of you,” he murmurs. His hand moves up to the strap of my bra and pulls it down my shoulder. “Take this off. Take it all off.”
He lets me sit up and I undo my bra. He takes off his shirt and I’m momentarily distracted by his muscles and the lion tattoo that goes over his shoulder and up his neck.
With the exception of the bandage on his side, he’s a perfect masterpiece.
My mouth waters with the need to kiss his chest and those abs…
I undo my jeans, pulling them down and kicking them off. He takes them and tosses them aside. My panties, he takes hold of, tearing the sides and ripping them off my body.
He leans into me, gentle nips between kisses, biting my lips, my chin.
He kisses my neck and moves his tongue down the center of my chest. Both my breasts are in his hands, his fingers flicking my hardened nipples.
The moment his mouth covers my left nipple and I feel the pressing of his teeth, I say, “They’re sensitive. ”
He pauses, then looks up at me curiously. “‘They’re sensitive’…what?”
I bite my lip, knowing exactly what he’s looking for. Suddenly, the idea of him giving me just a little pain is enticing. When I don’t answer, he raises an eyebrow. He extends his tongue, flicking my nipple slowly. I have to bite my lip to keep myself from moaning.
“You know what to call me,” he says between licks. “I won’t warn you again, Little One.”
My toes are curling with anticipation. When I don’t give him anything, his teeth surround my nipple as he squeezes the other one between his fingers. As his bite deepens, the sting runs through me like a warm river. I throw my head back, a shaking moan escaping my lips.
“Daddy,” I moan.