Page 27 of The Bratva Stalker and His Pregnant Bride

“Yes, baby. Just like yours,” I choke out, forcing a light laugh. “He wanted to come say hi to you. I want you to be a very good boy, okay? Be very polite and cooperative, and sit with him in the office. Mommy is driving over right now to join you both. Can you do that for me?”

“Okay, Mommy! I’ll show him my dinosaur drawings!”

“That sounds perfect, sweetheart. I’ll see you in ten minutes. I love you. Don’t leave the office.”

“Love you too, Mommy!”

The call disconnects.

I slowly lower the phone from my ear, my knuckles white as I grip the metal casing. Outwardly, my face is a mask of perfect, icy composure as I turn back toward the boardroom glass. But internally, a monstrous, raging fire is consuming me.

He crossed the line. He brought his chaotic, dangerous world to my son’s sanctuary.

I slide the phone into my pocket, my jaw clenching so hard it aches, and stride back into the boardroom. The double glass doors swing shut behind me with a sharp click that draws every eye to the head of the table.

“I’m sorry, everyone,” I say, my voice projecting a flawless, unshakeable authority that betrays absolutely none of the terror roaring through my veins. “An urgent family matter has just arisen that requires my immediate personal attention. We’re going to have to postpone the rest of this meeting. Maya will coordinate a time for us to reconvene tomorrow morning.”

The directors exchange surprised glances, but they quickly nod, gathering their tablets and files. I stand rigid at the head of the table, offering polite, professional nods as they file out one by one.

Once the last executive leaves, the heavy mahogany doors click shut. Only Maya remains.

She doesn’t pack her things. She simply stands up, her sharp eyes scanning my face, instantly picking up on the minute cracks in my armor.

“Ash,” she says, her voice low and filled with immediate concern. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. What’s going on? Was that the daycare?”

This time, I don’t deflect. I don’t paste on a fake smile, and I don’t try to brush it off as mere stress. The situation has escalated entirely beyond what I can handle alone. The walls of my fortress are crumbling, and if I don’t let her in now, the debris will crush us both.

“Samuel is at Ethan’s daycare,” I whisper, the words feeling incredibly heavy as they leave my mouth.

Maya blinks, her brow furrowing in confusion. “The client? Samuel Rusnak? Why on earth would he be at—” She freezes, her eyes widening as the math begins to settle in her brain. “Ashley…no. Tell me he isn’t.”

“He is,” I say, my voice cracking slightly before I force it back into a hard, steady register. “Samuel is Ethan’s father, Maya.”

Maya gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my god. Four years ago…the man from the penthouse. It was him?”

“Yes,” I say, pacing the small space behind my chair, the adrenaline making it impossible to stand still. “We met in New York. I didn’t know his real name; I didn’t know his background. It was one night, and then he was gone. I had no way to find him, and honestly, I didn’t want to. But it gets worse.”

I stop pacing, looking directly into my business partner’s eyes, needing her to understand the sheer magnitude of the threat we are facing.

“I didn’t just hide Ethan from an ordinary man, Maya. I hid him from a Rusnak. Do you have any idea what that name actually means?”

“They’re a massive global logistics and shipping conglomerate—”

“That’s their front,” I cut her off, my voice dropping to a harsh, urgent whisper. “They’re a powerful, ruthless Russian bratva family operating right here in the States. They don’t play by the rules of courts, contracts, or borders. My best friend, Sofia Morozova, is married to Lukyan Rusnak. I know firsthand how rugged, stubborn, and relentless they are. When a Rusnak claims something as theirs, they don’t back down. And Samuel just looked into my son’s blue eyes and realized the truth.”

Maya stares at me, the color completely draining from her face as the pieces of the puzzle violently lock into place. The late-night message, the sudden contract doubling, the fierce tension in the boardroom—it all makes terrifying sense now.

“If he’s at the daycare…” Maya breathes, her hand trembling slightly against the edge of the mahogany table. “Ashley, what are you going to do?”

“I have to go get my son,” I say, grabbing my purse and keys with a cold, absolute resolve.

As I rush toward the boardroom doors, the weight of the reality settles heavily on my shoulders. This is no longer just a personal secret, a private custody dispute, or a messy past relationship. It’s an active, volatile confrontation with a criminal syndicate.

Chapter 14 – Samuel

The small, brightly colored administrative office of the daycare feels entirely too small for me. I sit on a miniature plastic chair that grooves uncomfortably beneath my weight, my long legs bent at a sharp, awkward angle.

Around us, the walls are covered in finger-painted suns and construction-paper butterflies, a stark contrast to the dark mahogany and cold marble of the world I command.