The Bratva's Baby (Wicked Doms 1)

Does it matter? Could anyone really prosecute him anyway?

I hold my breath as he scowls at what he sees. I can’t see what he does next, since the small crack in the door is so slim. He barks out an order to the woman, and the next second, my heart sinks. She’s on her way to the closet. With a firm slam, she shuts the door. I’m plunged into darkness when I hear an audible click.

I’m trapped.Chapter ThirteenKazimirThe meeting drones on and on. Dimitri goes over so many orders of business, I see Maksym yawn, and Filip’s eyes wander and begin to droop. I kick him swiftly under the table, and watch as his brown eyes flare with annoyance at me. I give a sharp shake of my head. If Dimitri caught him dozing, Filip would regret it.

“Pay attention,” I admonish sternly, when Dimitri pauses for a minute to return a phone call.

Filip looks like he wants to tell me to fuck off, but he knows what happens if he does. Instead, he slouches in his seat angrily but turns his gaze to Dimitri. Good. Like anyone under my authority, I don’t care if they like me. I care if they obey. If it were Demyan, I’d cuff him for his arrogance, but Filip is rarely ornery and never challenges my authority. It’s out of character for him, so I let it go with a warning look.

“Go,” Dimitri finally says, after giving out final orders. “Return here in an hour.” He looks to Maksym. “Report your findings.”

The men stand to leave, but Dimitri’s sharp voice arrests me when I rise.

“Kazimir, stay here, please.”

I turn to face him, but he waits until everyone else has gone before he addresses me. I wait, impatient to get back to Sadie. When the door shuts behind Filip, Dimitri turns to me.

“When I took my last call, when I excused myself for a few minutes, I went to the library.”

Though I’ve done nothing wrong, or even anything that might arouse suspicion, my pulse races. Why? Do I dislike the idea of him near Sadie so much?

“Oh?” I feign ignorance.

“Oh,” he says, his gaze smoldering. “I saw something interesting in there,” he murmurs softly. “The floor, to be precise.” The floor? He didn’t see her? Liquid fire courses through my veins. Has someone touched her?

His gaze narrows. I tap my foot impatiently. Waiting. I need to know what he saw and he needs to leave before I can act.

“Yes?” I ask.

“Fresh blood,” he says contemplatively, stroking his chin, as a well of fear rises between my ribs. Fresh blood? In the library?

I try to keep my reaction calm. Why would there be blood?

“Yes,” he says, folding fingers pressed to his lips.

“Did you investigate?” I ask, hardly able to keep from grabbing him and shaking him. I hold his gaze with my own.

Until I brought Sadie here, I revered Dimitri. Hell, I might even say loved him, as a son loves his father. But now… now, I feel my body tense with taut nerves. I’ve seen how he treats women, and I’ve justified his actions. I blink, as if waking from a dream. Who is this man? If he touches Sadie…

“Mmm,” he says thoughtfully, pulling at his chin. “I made the servant who was in there do so but she reported back nothing.”

I’m not breaking any rules by having Sadie with me. It’s not even a risk. Then why does my temperature rise like this? I hate the idea of him stumbling upon her unawares.

“I see. Well, allow me to investigate.”

He waves a hand, dismissing me. “Just beware,” he says, standing. “It could be nothing. A servant cut a hand on a piece of glass while cleaning or something. But tell me if you see anything out of place.”

I leave, barely tempering my need to run to her. To hide her away where no one, especially him, will ever find her.

Why is there blood?

And why do I care?

I wait for the elevator, tapping my foot rapidly. I need it to move quicker. I should have taken the stairs, but didn’t want to arouse suspicion when I ran. I watch the lights illuminate on the indicator panel. Finally, I can’t wait anymore. With quick, deliberate steps, as if I’m angry and not alarmed, I go to the stairwell and open the door, step through the door, and when the door clicks shut, I race downstairs, jumping to each landing and practically falling in my haste.

I burst through the door and into the library so quickly, I’d startle anyone who was in there.

But no one’s here. None of my brothers. No servant.

No Sadie.

“Sadie?” I bellow. “Where are you?” No response.

I know she’s in here. Where else would she go?

“Sadie?” I repeat. Still, nothing.

“So help me,” I seethe, my temper rising at the thought of her injured, or worse. “If you’re in here and don’t answer, when I get my hands on you, you won’t sit for a week. Do you understand me?’