Page 45 of Cruel Bratva King
“Okay,” I nodded and rubbed the tattoos on my arm. “All I want to know is where are you going with this speech?”
Lilianna took in a deep breath and held my gaze defiantly. “I want to register for prenatal care, and I need to speak with my best friend, Eva.”
I tittered dryly. “You mean you run away, don’t you?”
Her eyes turned, pleading. “Please, Sergey. She must be worried sick about me.”
“Who, the fucking baby?” I growled icily. It was funny how everything also lost its glow in a brief moment. I could tell she still desired to go far away from me. But I couldn’t deal with the thought.
“My friend, Sergey. I have to talk to Eva. I have to tell her that I am okay.”
“I have only one answer for you, Lilianna.”
“Sergey, please…”
“No,” I said and turned away from her. It didn’t take long; I heard movement on the bed and feet shuffling on the floor. Before I could take a step forward, she blocked my path.
I jutted my jaw when I noticed that she hadn’t bothered to cover up. She looked like an angel in her morning glow, and my fingers itched to cradle her face and kiss her lips again. But I couldn’t. The matter at hand was a sensitive one. Too sensitive for me to turn a blind eye to.
She took a step forward, and her scent knocked the air out of my lungs.Why does she have such an effect on me?
“Sergey,” her voice broke and was almost a whisper. “Please, I need to do this, okay? Otherwise, I might just go insane thinking about all the endless possibilities that my friend has gone crazy because she thinks something bad happened to me or, worse, I’m dead and buried six feet under. I have to do this.”
“No, Lilianna, you don’t,” I retorted sharply. And it took everything in me to keep my eyes on her face. “You don’t have to do anything. I can get the best fucking doctors nationwide to check in on you here at the house. You don’t have to stress your pretty legs by going all the way out there. And your friend…”
“Sergey,” she placed a hand on my arm, and the impact stunned me. “This will mean a lot to me,” she said.
I pulled my hand away and folded my hands into fists by my sides. “Don’t you get it? I don’t trust you enough to believe that this isn’t a scheme to run away or do something stupid, Lilianna. I know you don’t like my control over your movement, but it’s for the best.”
“How, Sergey?” she flared, her eyes turning glassy. “Please tell me how? How is thiscontrolfor the best, huh? You have me under fucking lock and key. I can barely breathe. I know I am not doing well, and because of that, I don’t want my baby…our babyto suffer. I don’t know about you, Sergey, but the needs of the child come first. And I know you can get all the doctors to come here with a snap of your fingers, butIwant to register for prenatal care outside this house. That is not a scheme to run away.”
“It doesn’t guarantee that you won’t either.”
“I won’t,” she argued.
I took a step closer and watched a bit of her confidence wear off. “I will make sure you don’t.”
She stood still for a split second until, suddenly, the light bounced back into her eyes. “Does that mean…”
“Yes. You can talk to your friend and register for the prenatal, but know this: I will be watching your every move, Lilianna. You cannot and will not leave this house without a guard thatIwill appoint to stay by your side. Don’t think you can try anything smart.”
She laughed airily and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “There’s no need to worry, Sergey. I won’t try anything funny.”
I held her gaze, and my eyes flickered to her lips. I clenched my jaw and walked away with a curt nod. “Good.”
Chapter 20 - Lilianna
Alive.
Free.
That was how I felt when I stepped out of the car and inhaled the fresh, clean Chicago air like I always did. Before Sergey happened.
I missed the sound of blaring horns and happy people greeting each other as they zoomed past their workstations. I waved at a newspaper vendor positioned at a corner on the sidewalk before heading into Trina's café.
“Ah,” I exhaled with a smile on my lips. I missed the smell of latté and Trina's specially-made fresh buns. It was always a pleasure to visit the café. Every visit was worth it.
My eyes scanned the room—glancing through and above customers' faces—in search of one person.