Broken Bride (Belaya Bratva 2)

“Pregnant,” I finally croaked out, my hand tightening on hers. “Are you sure?”

“I took two tests,” she answered. “I’m pretty sure.”

I had to fight my emotions as I pushed the chair back and tugged her to her feet, wrapping my arms around her. “Fuck, I can’t believe this.” I was going to be a father. I was going to have everything I wanted.

My arms tightened around Naomi. “You have made me very happy,” I said near her ear, the words coming out all wrong and not at all revealing the emotions coursing through me. This was uncharted territory for me, having feelings for someone like I did for her. “Our child will want for nothing.”

Naomi didn’t respond and I pulled back to look into her eyes, seeing very little emotion there. Now I understood why she hadn’t been eating tonight or drinking her wine. Had she found out while I was gone today? Had that been why she had tried to call me?

Suddenly I wished I could have been there to see her find out for the first time, to hold her close as we stared at the test. Had she been happy then?

Or was there something else?

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, searching her gaze. “For not being there.”

A range of emotions flickered across her expression. “Vera knows.”

“She won’t say a word unless I tell her to do so,” I answered firmly, bringing my hands to frame her face. I wanted to hear her tell me she was happy that she was carrying my child, our child. I wanted a smile, a laugh, something that would ease the worry inside. “I will have my personal physician recommend the very best in obstetrics.” She would want for nothing.

If she wished to give birth in LA, then she would have the best hospital suite imaginable to do so in. Whatever she wanted to bring our child into this world.

Unable to stop myself, I leaned down and brushed my lips over hers before pressing my forehead against hers. No one would dare disturb us tonight. Vera was under strict orders to keep the staff away from the dining room. “Naomi,” I whispered. “We are going to have a child together.”

I felt her surprise at the sound of her name on my lips outside the sanctuary of her bedroom. Honestly, though I would never tell her, I wanted to shout her name from the rooftop. The lines had blurred considerably for me, not even giving a fuck that I needed her to complete the plans. I was already so close, I could taste it.

And now this.

“We will begin work immediately on a nursery,” I said, the words coming out in a rush. “And make a proper announcement once you have been checked out. My Bratva will worship you and this child.”

A hollow laugh escaped Naomi, and I was taken aback by it.

“Me or Sveta?” she challenged quietly.

I pulled back to look at her, my jaw tightening. “What?”

“Don’t you remember, Gavril?” she replied. “You wanted Sveta pregnant. This is what you had planned for all along, right?”

“We will talk about that at a later time,” I said.

Naomi’s eyes searched mine. “All right,” she finally said.

“You are happy about this, aren’t you?” I asked cautiously. I had heard of women going insane after finding out they were expecting a child under duress. I didn’t want that to happen to Naomi. Sure, I had caused this shit, but things had changed from the moment I had started to care for her.

For Naomi, not Sveta.

Naomi managed a smile for me, and I felt some of the chains around my chest loosen. “Of course,” she murmured. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s just, it’s all overwhelming.”

I loosened a breath. “That makes two of us, but I don’t plan to abandon you, Naomi. Whatever you need, whatever you desire, you will have it.”

Naomi nodded and I pulled her against me once more, my hands rubbing her lower back. “Don’t hide what you are suffering through,” I murmured against her temple. “I want to see it all, experience it all.” After all, I had had a part in creating this child. I was going to be there for him or her. I was going to be there for every step, every cry, very much unlike my own childhood.

It wasn’t a duty or a burden. It was my fucking family, my future.

Naomi didn’t respond, but I felt the shiver go through her regardless.

“Please tell me that you will allow me to do so,” I asked. “Please tell me that you will not hide from me, Naomi.”

“I won’t,” she finally said, her arms tightening around my waist as she buried her face in my shirt. “I promise.”

That was what I needed to hear. I slid my hand into her hair, tugging on the band that had it on top of her head until it came tumbling down in waves and covered my hand. A soothing feeling came over me as I buried my face in her hair, breathing in her scent. I wanted to tell her that I loved her, that she was all that mattered to me, but a small piece of me held back. Was it the truth? Did I love her?

I felt like I did. She was important to me, and now that she was carrying my child, I would fight to the ends of the earth for her and her alone.

My Bratva was the other half of me, and I would do the same for it. I had done the same. I had married Naomi under duress to make it the most powerful criminal organization in LA. I had tricked the Krasnaya brigadiers, made them believe that I held Orlov’s daughter, and soon, his grandchild, in the palm of my hand.

“What do you want it to be?” I asked after a moment, lifting my head.

“What?”

“Boy or girl?” I asked, untangling myself from her and sliding my hands through my hair. Fuck, I was shaking from the news.

Naomi bit her lower lip, and searing need shot through my groin at the sight. “I don’t know,” she finally answered, wrapping her arms around her waist. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

In my mind’s eye, I pictured a little girl with Naomi’s laughing eyes and my drive. It wasn’t what most would picture first, and my thoughts even surprised me as I had thought about a son for as long as I had thought about this plan.

Not that I would feel anything different if a son made his appearance. Suddenly I realized I didn’t care what the child was as long as he or she was healthy and happy.

There was little doubt that our child would be safe. I would make certain that no one, no fucking one, would harm our child.

“Come,” I finally said, holding out my hand. “You need to eat.”

Naomi took my hand and I led her back to the table, making sure she was seated before I returned to my seat. I would care for her. My staff would cater to her every whim during this pregnancy. Even if it was just in name only or rather, not even in name, Naomi was my wife and the mother of my child.

I would protect her at all costs.