The Bratva's Baby (Wicked Doms 1)

I bring my hand to my belly and imagine I feel the baby stir within me.

“We have to go, Sadie,” Nikita says. “I’m the only way you’ll get out of here. But I can’t stay any longer. He’s… what is the word…” she trails off in broken English. “Insane. He beat Lada, our cook, and fired her after he killed his own wife.”

“Yana,” I whisper. Kazimir spoke of her with such tenderness. My heart aches for what he must feel.

Nikita nods, tears rolling down her cheeks. “We are not safe. We must run.”

“But where will we go?” I whisper. “I do not know where I am. I have no money. No friends.”

“I know,” she whispers. “But first, we must leave. Quickly, put your shoes on!” I dress quickly, listening for the sound of the elevator.

“But Kazimir… Nikita, he wouldn’t—”

When she turns to me, her broken voice twists my stomach into knots. “I heard him agree. I heard him with my own ears. Dimitri ordered your execution, and Kazimir agreed to do it.”

No.

He wouldn’t. How could he? Kazimir professed his love for me and I know in my heart he meant it. I know he did.

But I have to protect my baby. And staying here, when the only chance I have at escape is presented to me, would be a mistake. So, in a jumble of tears and haste, she bundles me up, and we rush to the elevator, taking nearly nothing. I half expect men with drawn guns to come after us, but the hall remains vacant except for us. Nikita takes me by the hand when the elevator door shuts.

“We will go to the library,” she whispers. “There is an exit on the ground floor I can access, and there will be fewer people there.”

My heart pounds so loudly, the blood rushing in my ears nearly deafening. I’m trembling but determined. This isn’t safe for me.

Kazimir agreed to murder me.

No, no, no, my heart says. But I have to stay safe.

The elevator stops at the library. I tremble, waiting for the doors to open. If Dimitri is in there... Normally on this floor, I long for the taste of freedom. I revel in the presence of the books that bring me solace, the familiar sights and smells. But today, everything seems dim and musky in here, so dull and lifeless. Today, I leave the only home I’ve ever really known.

But when the door closes shut behind us, the elevator sweeps upward and Nikita’s eyes widen. Someone’s called it up.

“Hurry,” she says, pulling my hand she runs for the door. I follow her, expecting someone to chase after us, but still, no one does. My vision blurs with tears when she fumbles with the lock at the door, then finally pushes it open. But the second my feet touch the concrete pavement, the first time I’ve left this place in months, a siren rings loud and clear.

“They know we’re gone,” Nikita chokes out, not bothering to modify her voice now. “Run!”

I don’t even know where we’re running to or where we’re going, but I do as she says. I run until there’s a stitch in my side and it feels like someone’s squeezing my lungs, when my foot catches on something. I fly forward face first, bracing my fall on my hands. My head smacks concrete, the fabric on the knees of my pants tearing as they scrape on the pavement. Nikita screams, reaching for me.

“Sadie. My God, are you alright?”

A sharp pain radiates in my belly, then travels lower still. Oh, God.

“I… oh, no, no,” I moan, grasping my belly as a spasm of pain rips through me.

“Oh, Sadie,” she whispers. “Hurry. We need to go.”

Nikita leads us away from the house. My stomach churns with nausea and fear, and as she pulls a phone out of her pocket, I lean against the wall and heave the contents of my stomach. I whimper, spent, and wipe the back of my mouth, just as someone answers the phone. I understand nothing as she speaks in rapid Russian. I grasp my belly, willing the baby to stay. Just to hold on. To stay with me, because I have nothing left.Chapter Twenty-ThreeKazimirWhen I see the door swinging crazily on its hinges, I know. I know before I see, I feel the loss in my very bones.

Sadie’s gone. They came for her before I could get to her.

“Sadie!”

I scream her name, knowing there will be no response. “Sadie!” I bellow, needing to conjure her up, to bring her back to me. But I know before I do that it’s no use.

I look about the room to see if I can piece it together. Did he send one of the men to fetch her before I could do what he ordered me to?

I wasn’t going to do what I promised I would. I could never harm her, much less kill her, and he likely knew that. Did he know she was pregnant? Or could he tell by my outrage that I hate him for killing Yana, and that I’m not a man who would murder his own wife? He thinks I’m less of a man because I can’t bring myself to harm her.