Page 54 of Forced Bratva Kidnapped Virgin
Fuck.
I lowered my head, fingers rubbing my eyes as I wondered why on earth she couldn’t just keep her mouth shut.
“Child?” Mikhail’s brows arched, his eyes wide with curiosity. “What child?”
Silence.
My father rose to his feet, his gaze pinned on Kiera. “Are you pregnant with my son’s child?”
“Father….” I stood up.
“Silence!” he snapped. “Let her speak.”
She swallowed hard, a glimpse of fear flashing in her eyes. “Yes.”
He paused, wiping a palm over his mouth.
“Listen, we can still pull off the plan. He marries Hannah. I disappear. Easy-peasy,” she said, trying to sound confident despite the slight nervousness in her voice.
Mikhail stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. “You’re carrying my grandchild. There is no disappearing.”
It was at this moment that she realized that she fucked up. She shot me a quick look, confused. I knew what was going on in my father’s head, and there was nothing any of us could do at this point.
He turned to face me, his eyes flashing with something I had yet to name. “You will marry the mother of your child.”
“What?” she protested.
I knew better than to speak when he was talking—it was pointless.
“This is not up for debate,” he growled at her. “No son of mine will birth a child out of wedlock like some street criminal.” He faced me again. “You carry the Tarasov name, so man up and take responsibility for your actions.”
My jaw locked, but I said nothing.
Across from us, Kiera stood frozen, stunned by the turn of events. She must be regretting having spoken up in the first place. Mikhail’s decision was final, leaving no room for debate.
I never intended to marry her.
The plan was to keep her safe and fed until the baby was born. But she just had to get involved and ruin everything. Judging by the shock in her gaze, it was clear that she hated the idea as much as I did.
Now, we were stuck together.
“Mr. Tarasov,” she said, trying to plead her case. “I think you’re making a huge mistake. Marrying me into the family will do nothing for the business.” She stared right into his eyes, her voice low and desperate. “I’m not as important as Hannah—there is no strategic alliance with me.”
Father looked back at her and asked, “Weren’t you the one who said I was a wise, powerful man who knew what’s best for the family?”
She went silent, anxiety oozing out of her.
“You two better start getting along.” He brushed off invisible dust from his suit. “You have a wedding to plan.”
He walked away without another word, leaving the two of us in the living room. Halfway to the door, he began whistling, his shoes scuffing against the floor.
I rubbed my forehead and sank into my couch, my mind reeling with a thousand different ways this could end. She tapped her left foot rapidly against the floor while biting her nails.
Her chest was heaving with slow breaths, her head lowered. “This can’t be happening right now,” she murmured to herself.
“You should’ve left when I asked you to,” I said softly.
She raised her head and met my gaze, her eyes blazing with fury. A moment later, she walked away, muttering curse words as she climbed up the stairs.
