The Bratva's Baby (Wicked Doms 1)

“Who are you?” she screams. When I don’t answer at first, she lets out a wicked, heart-rending scream before she slices the shovel through the air. I roll to avoid getting struck, but she lunges. I barely escape the strike a second time, and when she’s on the downswing of the heavy blow, I lunge.

Screaming, she tries to defend herself but she’s no match for me. I pin her easily to the ground beneath me, my whole body vibrating with anger. This is not only someone who tried to hurt me. She took my wife. She knows where she is.

I hold her down, pinning her arms above her head.

“Where is she?” I bellow. “Tell me!” I could throttle her. My hands ache with the need to hurt her, to punish her, but if I harm her, I could lose the only connection I have to Sadie.

“I’ll never tell you!” she shouts. I raise my hand to strike her, and she winces in anticipation of the blow, but I stop myself mid-swing. No. I won’t be that man, even when I’m enraged.

I fall back on my knees and she scrambles up, but she’s cornered.

“I won’t hurt you,” I tell her. “But I’m not going to let you go until you tell me where she is.”

Shaking her head, she turns to get away, but I’ve got her cornered in here.

“No, Nikita. You took something that belongs to me, and I want it back.”

“Sadie belongs to no one,” she seethes, thankfully confirming my suspicion that Sadie is indeed alive.

“You’re wrong,” I tell her. “She’s mine, and if you don’t tell me where she is, I’ll get the information the only way I know how.”

She looks at me in consternation.

“Your mother,” I say simply. I’m prepared to do whatever necessary to find my woman.

“You wouldn’t,” Nikita whispers.

“Nikita,” I growl. “I would never hurt Sadie. Ever. I left the day you did, and I’ve been combing the streets ever since, in the hope of finding her.”

She blinks and nods. “This is true,” she says. “I have one confidante still in the house, and they do say this is true.”

I sigh as patiently as I can. “The truth, please,” I say. I pull a large wad of cash out of my pocket. “Tell me, and this is yours. You can leave and start a new life for yourself.” I nod to the house. “For your mother.”

But the woman’s loyalty runs deep. Her eye are fearful and afraid. I sigh and give her nothing but the truth.

“Nikita, I lied to Dimitri because I wanted to leave and get back to Sadie, so she’d be safe. I never had any intention at all of hurting her. Not ever.” I fall to my knees in desperation. I’ve never needed to know anything so badly in my life. “I love her. Please.”

“How do I know this to be true?” she whispers.

I shake my head. “You don’t. It will have to be an act of trust. But I give you my word, Nikita. I only wish to care for her. To protect her. And you already know I’m no longer in good standing with my brothers.”

Nikita’s eyes fill with tears. “She cries herself to sleep every night,” she whispers. “And sometimes she calls your name in her sleep.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. I know the pain she speaks of… I live it every day.

“Please,” I plead.

Her eyes probe mine, pained but intent, when she reaches for my hand.

“You wouldn’t hurt her,” she whispers. “I can see your devotion in your eyes. You won’t harm her, sir?”

“Never,” I whisper.Chapter Twenty-FiveSadieI walk along the balcony of our humble home, my eyes fixed on the mountains. Nikita secured a tiny apartment for us after we escaped. We live like peasants, but it’s my favorite place I’ve ever lived.

A simple bone broth simmers on the stove, bread rising in the oven. We make everything from scratch with simple ingredients. We own only a few modest items of clothing and a few books. It is an unassuming life. And though I enjoy our surroundings and my home, and the freedom I wanted so badly, my heart longs for what I had.

I go into the little kitchen and stir the soup, then open the oven door and check the bread. The warm fragrance envelopes me, and hunger churns in my stomach.

The past eight months have been the hardest of my life, and I’ve lived through some dismal times.

When the door opens, I don’t even turn to look. We’re the only two here for miles, and Nikita’s due for dinner. “Almost done,” I tell her over my shoulder. “About five more minutes.”

When she doesn’t respond, I turn to the door. I open my mouth to scream but no sound comes. I stand in petrified shock when I recognize Kazimir’s dark countenance, brooding eyes, his hulking form. I take a step backward. Has he come to hurt me?