Page 25 of The Bratva’s Stalked Pregnant Bride

“But you didn’t,” she said. Did she look hopeful for another one?

“Come on,” I said, taking her hand. “There’s no way we’re getting back to work like nothing just happened.”

I dropped her hand as we passed the builders and took it again as I led her to my car. No more buses for my wife.

“How did you know where I lived yesterday?” she asked as soon as she recognized we were heading to her apartment.

Good question. “HR records,” I said smoothly. That was the easiest information to find out about her, but she didn’t need to know I’d been parking outside and watching her place. And now I wouldn’t have to anymore.

“Grab a few things,” I said, following her into her apartment. “I’ll get someone over here to bring whatever big stuff you need.”

“Everything’s from the thrift store, so I’m sure it won’t fit with your decor,” she said, then furrowed her brow. “How long do you think this arrangement is going to last?”

“Did you not hear until death do us part?” I asked, engrossed in what I was doing on my phone. I glanced up at her to grin, and she laughed easily, still thinking I was joking after everything. “If you’re worried about paying rent on a place you won’t be staying, don’t.”

“I can’t ask you to pay my rent.”

“You didn’t,” I told her, looking back down at my phone.

She huffed but didn’t argue, because it was clear she was still shaken up that Rand had found her and actually tried to get her back by any means necessary. I’d seen firsthand how easy it was to get into the courtyard. Her security gate was a joke when the other tenants blithely let anyone walk in behind them.

She was right to be scared, and it pissed me off that she had to be, but not for much longer. Nothing or no one could touch her at my place, which was decked out with Fokin-level security systems and full-time guards. The fact that they doubled as gardeners to make it less obvious didn’t negate how deadly they were.

While she tossed some clothes and her toiletries into an overnight bag, I made the arrangements to end her lease early and have some movers come to put her furniture into storage.

“Would your father really arrange a marriage for you?” she asked when we were back in the car.

“Was your father strict?” I asked, trying to dodge the question as much as possible so I didn’t have to lie to her too much.

“No, the opposite. He didn’t care what I did unless he could use it to torment my mother.”

I grimaced, glancing at her as she stared straight ahead. “Sorry about that. My dad’s actually great. He only wants the best for us. His best and my best aren’t always the same thing, though.”

That was true enough. He thought my brewery was a waste of time, urging me to go into business with him full-time. He was fine with it now, but when I dug in my heels at the beginning, he almost washed his hands of me.

“Who’s us?” she asked. “Do you have a brother or a sister?”

“I have three brothers and one sister.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” she sighed. “Your own little army.”

She had no idea, but her yearning for someone to be on her side was palpable, making my stomach flip over. “It had its ups and downs. We weren’t always on the same side. And I know a little bit about having parents who hated each other, although I was pretty young when my mother died.”

“Sorry about that.”

I couldn’t exactly say she got into her own mess, so I only nodded. “My father handled it well,” I said diplomatically. After she cheated on him, stole his money, and worked with our enemies to try to get him killed, he showed plenty of restraint in not throwing a party. “She wasn’t exactly a doting mother.”

“Mine’s not either.”

She turned and smiled at me, a bit tremulously. I hoped it wasn’t all crashing in on her as she came out of her shock. I probably should have been in shock, too. This was by far the craziest thing I ever did, but recalling that asshole putting his hands on her cemented the decision for me. There was nothing else I could do.

“Oh wow,” she said when I pulled through the gates to my place.

She craned her head forward to take it all in, and it was pretty impressive. I lived simply in Moscow, spending more time at the brewery than home. But keeping up with the neighbors, and my extremely rich cousins, was the name of the game here, and I did enjoy a lot of the amenities of my new mansion.

“Make yourself at home,” I said. “Oh, hang on.” Pausing at the front doors, I leaned down and scooped her up to carry her over the threshold.

She laughed, kicking her legs to make me put her down. Not a chance. She felt too good in my arms. “Welcome home, wife.”