A Secret Baby for the Bratva: Forced Marriage Mafia Romance (Zolotov Bratva Book 2) by Isla Brooks

Author:Isla Brooks [Brooks, Isla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14 - Caterina

I wake to the warmth of Mikhail’s body pressed against my back, his arm draped heavily over my waist. Early morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting the room in a warm glow.

As I begin to stir, the sharp trill of Mikhail’s phone pierces the quiet. I frown, blinking the sleep from my eyes. Who could be calling at this hour?

Mikhail stirs behind me with a grumble, his arm tightening around my waist before he reaches for his phone. I twist in his embrace to face him as he answers, my eyes searching his face. His brows are drawn, voice low and gravelly from sleep.

He ends the call and meets my gaze, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“What is it?” I ask.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Meeting called by Ivan. Says your presence is required.”

I furrow my brow. “For what? Why would he need me there?”

Mikhail shakes his head, jaw tightening. “I don’t know. But it must concern you, since it’s not regular Bratva business.”

A nervous energy thrums through me at his words. What could this be about? But I know better than to ask more questions. Ivan the Pakhan’s summons cannot be ignored.

Mikhail is already sliding from the bed, movements sharp and efficient as he dresses. I follow his lead, donning my clothes quickly.

“Let’s go,” I say, steeling myself. Arm in arm, we make our way downstairs. At last, we enter the lion’s den.

The conference room is dimly lit and windowless. Ivan, some of his men, Vanya, and Sergei are already seated at the long table. They look up as we enter, faces grim.

“Please, sit,” Ivan says, gesturing to the chairs opposite them. His tone is polite but his eyes are flinty, giving nothing away.

Mikhail pulls out my chair before taking the seat beside me. I meet Ivan’s gaze steadily, tamping down my nerves. Whatever revelation comes next, I must face it with courage. Mikhail’s hand finds mine beneath the table, bolstering me. I am not alone.

I give Mikhail’s hand a grateful squeeze, drawing strength from his solid presence.

Ivan clears his throat. “As you know, we’ve been investigating the shooting at your wedding.” His eyes bore into mine. “We believe we’ve identified the shooter.”

He slides a photograph across the table. I clench Mikhail’s hand convulsively as the image comes into focus. No. It can’t be.

But there’s no mistaking Sal’s cruel eyes, the jagged scar cutting through his left brow. The breath leaves my lungs in a rush. Sal, my father’s trusted soldier. He was the shooter at my wedding? But whatever for? Did my father wrong him in some way? Was he bought off by our enemies? Am I just mistaken?

“Do you recognize this man?” Ivan’s gaze is razor-sharp, missing nothing.

I open my mouth, but no words emerge. If I reveal what I know, the consequences will be catastrophic for my family. Perhaps in their quest to hunt Sal, Sal might unwittingly reveal some of my father’s secrets, and if that were to happen, my father would never forgive me.

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