Page 8 of The Bratva’s Stalked Pregnant Bride

Her eyebrows shot up, and her mouth fell open. “You did?”

“Surely you’re not surprised. You knew it was the best option.”

“I guess I’m surprised that you’re admitting it.”

People very rarely fooled me. I hoped she wasn’t one. “Now that I’m a bit more certain you know what you’re doing, I’d like you to take a trip to some vineyards.”

“Of course,” she said eagerly, leaning forward. My eyes dropped as her blouse puckered open, revealing a couple more inches of smooth skin.

“With me,” I added. Not so eager now, but how would she react next? “Specifically, a very highly regarded vineyard called Canyon Vines.”

She didn’t blink, but her back stiffened, and her hands closed into fists in her lap. An instant later, she rallied. I might have missed it if I weren’t so used to seeing people fight to keep their lies covered up.

“I’m familiar with them. They have an excellent online ordering system, and I’ve tasted some of their best vintages, so it’s really not necessary to make the trip when we’re so busy and under a time crunch. Especially with all the changes.”

Even flustered, she managed to slip in that little barb. But she was definitely flustered.

“No,” I said, leaning back in my seat and watching her carefully. Hell, not just to gauge her response, either. “I think we should go and see what’s new. And now that you’ve proven you have a better palate than me, it’s very important you accompany me, don’t you agree?”

Chapter 5 - Laurel

Everything started to go fuzzy at the mere mention of the vineyard I used to work for. I could feel my hands curling into the fabric of my skirt, but I had no control to relax them. Breathing was impossible.

No, no, no, I couldn’t disassociate now. I wasn’t a kid anymore. No one was screaming at me or around me, I wasn’t in any danger. All I wanted was to get up and run out back and hide behind the garage, where I kept a doll and a blanket hidden, but I wasn’t at my childhood home. I wasn’t at Canyon Vines, either, where I’d make up an excuse to get out among the grapes to be alone. And if I couldn’t physically get away, I’d send my mind somewhere nice until it was over.

Those days were in the past. They had to stay there. I had to stay here.

I couldn’t fade away to a better place just because my new boss expected me to jump at his every command.

Why the hell was he bringing up Canyon Vines out of the blue?

I managed to breathe; barely a blink of time had gone by, and I relaxed my hands. If I wanted to keep this job, I had to agree to go back to a place that sent tremors down my spine.

“Absolutely,” I said, reaching for the last bit of strength to try to change his mind somehow. “If you really want to go all the way up there, you’ll need me for the tastings.”

His smirk was satisfied and triumphant.

“Great. We leave on Wednesday.” And then I was dismissed with a kingly nod of his head.

Two days. Only two days until…

“You okay, Laurel?” Todd asked as I shambled past him like a zombie.

“Huh?”

“You almost walked right into the step stool there,” he said.

He had returned from his Italian trip empty-handed but grateful to still have a job, since he and Chance lived a lavish LA lifestyle that demanded two high incomes to maintain. Now he was overseeing his workers tearing down the lovely baroque wallpaper, so Mik could paint it acid green or some other garish, modern color.

“I’m okay, how about you?” I asked.

He shrugged. “The copper’s growing on me.”

If I weren’t quietly clinging to my sanity, I would have agreed. The hammered copper bar was actually great, and I wouldn’t have cared if it was made out of solid gold or dried mud, if it was in the place where it was supposed to be.

If only that were the only thing to get worked up about.

In my office, I closed the door and sank into my chair, resting my head on my arms. Two days until I was back in hell. No matter how hard I tried to stay in the here and now, memories dragged me back.