Page 17 of The Bratva Stalker and His Pregnant Bride

I don’t like being disrupted. I don’t like anomalies. My entire survival for the last four years has depended on my ability to compartmentalize, to box up my emotions, nail them shut, and bury them. But Ashley has walked right past my defenses, shattered my composure, and left me questioning why a woman I walked away from half a decade ago still has this kind of pull on me.

There’s a soft, rhythmic knock on my office door.

“Enter,” I command, not turning around as I take another long pull from the bottle.

The heavy door swings open, and Kaplan walks in, holding a thick, unmarked manila folder in his hand. He doesn’t say a word at first. He just walks over to my desk and drops the file onto the dark wood with a heavy thud.

“Everything we could scrape up on Ashley Kang,” Kaplan says, his voice low as he leans his large frame against the edge of the desk. “She’s a fortress, Samuel. It’s like trying to hack into a federal vault just to find out her favorite color.”

I turn slowly, the bottle of scotch still dangling from my fingers as I walk over to the desk. I set the bottle down, pull the folder toward me, and flip it open. Her face stares back at me from a high-resolution corporate headshot—sharp, beautiful, and entirely guarded.

I start to pace again, carrying the open file in one hand and the bottle of scotch in the other, my eyes scanning the neatly printed pages as I move.

“Her professional record is immaculate,” I murmur, taking a slow drink as I read. “She’s been running Kang Logistics for seven years. Took a struggling family business and turned it into an absolute empire before she was even twenty-five.”

“She’s brilliant, and she’s ruthless,” Kaplan agrees, watching me track back and forth across the room. “She secured exclusive maritime rights in the Mediterranean, restructured her board to weed out any weak links, and established herself as the most reliable, untouchable luxury logistics provider in the Eastern Hemisphere. No scandals. No lawsuits. Flawless.”

I stop pacing, staring down at the page. “But what about her personal life? There has to be a footprint. A boyfriend, a husband, a paper trail of who she spends her time with.”

“That’s the thing,” Kaplan says, shaking his head. “There’s nothing. No visible relationships. No high-profile suitors, no social media presence, no digital footprint outside of her corporate profiles. She doesn’t attend the gala circuit unless it’s strictly for business. She keeps her private life locked in a vacuum.”

I frown, taking another pull from the bottle. The scotch burns, but it doesn’t distract me from the blank spaces in her file. “Nobody is that clean, Kaplan. Everyone leaves a trail. Everyone has a weakness.”

“Apparently not Ms. Kang,” Kaplan says. “She’s built a life where she doesn’t need anyone, and she sure as hell doesn’t let anyone in. She keeps her head down, runs her empire, and disappears the second she steps off the clock.”

I stare at the documents, my mind trying to calculate the variables, trying to fit her into a pattern I recognize. But she doesn’t fit. She is completely unpredictable. A riddle I can’t solve, a lock I can’t pick. And for a man who controls every single variable in his life, her silence is the most compelling thing I have ever encountered.

“Is that all we have?” I ask, my eyes never leaving her photograph.

“That’s it.” Kaplan nods, studying my face. “You’re getting obsessed, Samuel. She’s just a shipping contractor. We have the deal. Let it go.”

“I don’t let anything go, Kaplan,” I say, my voice deadpan. “You know that.”

Kaplan sighs, realizing there’s no arguing with me when my mind is made up. “Just don’t burn the bridge before we get our cargo through.” He turns and walks out, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.

I stand alone in the dark, the bottle of scotch heavy in my hand, staring down at the pristine, fiercely guarded life of Ashley Kang.

I know she wants me to keep my distance. I know she wants me to play the role of the obedient client, to pay my fees and stay in my lane. But as I close the folder and take one last drink from the bottle, a cold, predatory smile touches my lips.

My interest in her is no longer a casual ghost of the past. It’s deliberate, it’s focused, and I’m going to tear down every single brick of the fortress she built to keep me out.

Chapter 9 – Ashley

“No, Mommy! You have to crawl under the blanket cave! The lava is coming!”

I let out a breathless laugh, dropping to my knees on the soft living room rug. I slide my head and shoulders beneath the heavy knit throw blanket we’ve draped over the coffee table, plunging myself into the dark, cozy sanctuary of Ethan’s imagination.

“Is Dino safe?” I whisper, adjusting my posture so my elbows rest on the carpet.

“Yes,” Ethan whispers back, his little face inches from mine in the dim, blanket-filtered light. His wide, brilliant blue eyes shine with absolute glee. He cradles his sticky plastic Tyrannosaurus Rex in his lap like a prized possession. “We made it. We’re safe from the fire.”

“Thank goodness,” I say, brushing a stray lock of black hair away from his forehead. “You’re a very brave captain, Ethan.”

He beams, wrapping his small, warm arms around my neck and burying his face in my shoulder. I hug him back, closing my eyes and breathing in the sweet, comforting scent of baby shampoo and strawberry syrup.

For the first time in three days, the crushing weight in my chest finally starts to lift.

Ever since Samuel walked back into my life, my mind has been a chaotic, exhausting battlefield. I’ve spent every waking hour at the office on high alert, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for another demand, another cold glance, another reminder of the night that changed everything. My armor has felt heavier than ever.