Page 63 of The Bratva’s Stalked Pregnant Bride

Suddenly I didn’t care about my career anymore, and put my hand on my midsection. Someone was really in there? Mikhail Fokin’s son or daughter? Too bad it had me as a mother.

Before I could start crying all over again, something else I was sick of, I rinsed my face in cold water and found my phone on Mik’s desk. Taking a few breaths, I forced some strength back into my spine and called Mila.

“Last night was nuts,” I said after she answered. My plan was to pretend I knew way more than I did, meaning anything at all, and hope she accidentally spilled something. “Is Arkadi okay, or was it just Mik?” I was ready to make an excuse, say Mik got drunk with his brother or something if she had no clue.

She made a laughing groan sound, but took the bait. “How bad was Mik? Arkadi burned his hand trying to put out a fire, but other than that, he’ll live.”

Put out a fire? What the actual hell went on last night? “It’s so crazy,” I said, leaving it open-ended, waiting for her to continue adding more.

But I was out of luck. Apparently her husband was milking his minor injury for her attention, and she told me we’d have to meet up when things were less hectic.

Whenever that might be. While I didn’t get as much information as I wanted, one thing was clear. My mess was bleeding over into Mik’s entire family. I wondered if I could weasel some information out of CJ, since she was one of the few people who knew the truth about our relationship, but before I could decide, my phone rang.

That was odd in itself, because I had let so many of my friendships collapse due to not keeping up with them, and everyone at the restaurant usually just texted me. I thought it might be Mila calling back, but instead it was my old friend at Canyon Vines, who had told everyone else there to pretend not to know me.

“Hey Nell,” I said, flustered and wracked with guilt for pushing off my promise to call her and tell her why I left. It wasn’t so long ago, not really, but it felt like two lifetimes had passed since we used to hang out.

I wasn’t in the mood for small talk and gossip, but I couldn’t just hang up on her, and maybe it would do me good to tell her everything. It turned out she wasn’t in the mood for story time, either, and within seconds I could tell she was upset about something.

“I’m so glad you answered,” she said, on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry. I really am. But—”

“No, I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I feel like I should have called you sooner. Laurel, are you all right?”

She asked in a way that told me she knew I wasn’t. “What do you mean?” I asked, noncommittally. “Is everything okay with you? Is, uh, Rand around?”

It hit me that if Rand was up at the vineyard, maybe none of this had anything to do with him. Maybe whatever happened last night was something else completely. Not something good by any means, but at least it wouldn’t have been my fault.

Nell squeaked like something unexpectedly poked her, and she burst into tears. “No, he’s not. He stormed out of here, and I never saw him so pissed off before. He was freaking out, and I finally had enough of him being such a bully and…”

She tried to get herself under control as I listened in stunned silence. Surely Rand hadn’t started going in on his other employees.

“Do you know where he went?” I asked needlessly, my heart sinking.

“I think he’s coming after you. He tried to get me to tell him where you were, and didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know. I’m fed up,” she said. “I feel awful for acting like I didn’t know what was going on, but I never knew what it must have been like for you until he exploded.”

“It got that bad?” I asked. A fresh burst of crying answered that question.

“Worse. When they saw how he almost attacked me, Jackson and Lacey both quit, too. We always knew he was intense, but—” she gulped and went silent, then there was another yelping sob. “I’m headed to my aunt’s place in Santa Barbara because I don’t want to be in the same town as that creep anymore. If you… if you need a place to stay hidden, she’d be happy to have you, too.”

I stayed silent, the debilitating fear creeping up my spine again. I looked longingly at the messy bed and wanted nothing more than to get under the covers and drift off to a place where none of this was happening.

“He wants you dead, Laurel,” Nell sobbed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.”

“Let me call you back,” I said, ending the call before the sound of her crying tipped me over the edge.

I could not go to pieces. Not now when I needed to think clearly and not just about myself.

I was safe here. Nothing bad could happen to me while I was in Mik’s house. But what about Mik and his family? Those people had been nothing but kind and welcoming to me.

The longer I stayed and kept my head buried in the sand, the more danger he was in. What happened if it was worse than a few bruises next time? What if he went out to protect me and never came home?

Chapter 38 - Mikhail

I was back at Aleks’s house, with several other of the more senior cousins. We sat around the table in their formal dining room, ignoring plates of food and half-empty glasses of various drinks ranging from iced tea to vodka at our elbows. Laptops were open and phones out, on speaker so the rest of the family could hear me tell everything I knew about Rand Eckvald.

The prisoner who’d tipped me off to the bounty on Laurel’s head had no more useful information, and instead of killing him, Aleks had decided to have him dropped off somewhere in the middle of Mexico. With no money, phone, or passport, he was going to have a hell of a time surviving and getting back, but it was a better chance than the bullet to the head that usually ended anyone who visited the interrogation shed.