Page 70 of The Bratva’s Stalked Pregnant Bride

Some of it made too much sense, though. It explained why Mik wasn’t all that freaked out about a gunfight breaking out at his restaurant. It explained the bruises and the late nights, and definitely explained the secrecy. I counted all the chances he could have told me, but my mind tapped out when I wondered what I would have done if he did.

Would I have run sooner?

The one thing I gleaned from Bandana Boy’s ramblings while we waited for Mik to fall into the ambush or for Rand to show up was that Mik had lied to me. Not just about his father, which I could chalk up as being a kindness to protect my feelings. About his entire life.

My chatty captor wouldn’t shut up, and since my hands were tied, I couldn’t clap them over my ears. He didn’t care much if Rand or Mik showed up. He assured me he was prepared to get the drop on Mik, showing off his knife-throwing skills by slinging a couple past me to get lodged in the wall.

“See? I can hit anything I want. I actually won awards for this.”

“Your parents must be so proud,” I said, the first thing I uttered since he began enlightening me. He didn’t catch the sarcasm, or he might have forgotten I wasn’t supposed to be hurt.

To my shock, it was Mik who showed up first. Part of me hoped he would, but now that I knew the truth, it was mostly doused by anger and fear. What did I really know about him?

Poor Bandana boy didn’t stand a chance, even with his award-winning knife skills, and while there was a moment when I thought the last thing I’d see on this earth was Mik pointing a gun while one of those knives was digging into my throat, all of a sudden it was over.

I was tossed aside to safety and managed to get back on my chair before flopping helplessly to the floor like a fish. There was no way I could stay upright and slumped over, my heart and mind both racing.

So, was I captured again? As happy as I was to be rescued by someone I was pretty sure wouldn’t hurt me, what kind of life did I have to look forward to with this… this Bratva king. Whatever that meant. I was resigned, too exhausted by everything I learned to do anything after I begged him to help find Nell. Which he did without hesitation, but it barely made a dent in my anger and confusion.

Until I heard him say he was waiting for Rand to show up and claim me. My head jerked up. Every good memory raced back at full force. It might have made me feel pathetic, but Mik had given me a sense of peace and safety since that little white lie to get me to marry him.

Maybe his family ran a criminal empire, but Mik was happy to brew beer and start a restaurant. Nobody as hard and cold as he was supposed to be would track down such beautiful glasses from a Czech artisan if he was only obsessed with money and power. And then fight so hard for them when he found out they were all wrong. He cared about things. About me.

There was no denying that. I couldn’t let Rand get anywhere near him. Whatever betrayal I felt, he didn’t deserve that. And I couldn’t stand by and watch him get hurt, because Rand would go for him first, just to make me watch him suffer.

“You don’t know how dangerous he is,” I said desperately.

Mik had freed me from the zip ties, and I grabbed his arm. The warm security of holding onto him was too much, and I let go. There was no future for us, not with everything between us. Thinking about the good times was just a form of torture.

He laughed bitterly, seeming to know something had changed in me, that I had learned more than I was supposed to. “But don’t you know by now that I’m dangerous too?”

Oh, he was infuriating. He reminded me he had his brother with him. I was glad he sent his other helpers to find Nell before it was too late, but… “He’s not going to come alone. You’ll be outnumbered.”

He refused to listen to reason, and it was on the tip of my tongue to blurt out that I was pregnant, but then he’d really never leave me. And then I’d have to watch him die.

“What makes you think I want to stay married to you?” I spat, trying reverse psychology in hopes he’d get mad enough to save himself. “You’re a criminal, right? Bratva? You’re as bad as my ex.”

He gave me a long look. “We’re most definitely staying married,” he said calmly. “And I’m not as bad as your ex. I’m worse.”

He was stone cold and left me in the room to confer with his brother. Mik stayed just outside my room, occasionally looking back at me, but I never met his eyes, too angry at him and too scared for him, and too frustrated at myself for not being able to get either one of us out of this nightmare.

It might have been a few minutes or a few hours, but I overheard Luk say something from the other room that chilled me to the bone and had me snapping out of my daze.

“He’s here.”

“How many?” Mik answered, holding his hand out as I started to rise.

“Enough,” Luk said.

“Let me go,” I whispered. “I’ll walk out, and he’ll take me and—”

“Sit back down, Laurel.”

With that, he closed the door, and his footsteps faded down the hall. In another moment, there was a loud crash. Shouting. Sounds of something heavy hitting a wall, and grunts of pain. The first gunshot was muffled, but the agonized wail had me jumping up.

Who was hurt? Who might be dying or already dead right now? And why was I once again cowering in a corner, on the verge of slipping into unconsciousness? Opening the bedroom door, I crept down the hall, my heart slamming against my ribs and making it difficult to breathe.

It calmed only slightly when I saw Mik, alive and swinging a chair at someone I didn’t recognize. Luk was on the other side of the room, standing over a bleeding man on the floor, just turning with his gun raised as Rand jumped forward to crack him over the head with some kind of small club.