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Is he really going to harvest my organs? Does he need a team of men with him to do that?
I could try to get through the window and down the fire escape.
I’m sure that he would kill me if I tried to escape again, baby or no baby.
Sergey nods to the man. “Good, Denis.”
Denis looks at me, his eyes narrowing as they drop to my stomach. “She’s pregnant. Is someone going to come looking for her?”
The blood in my veins turns to ice.
So, they aren’t planning to kill me here.
It makes sense. Killing me in the apartment would leave too much evidence behind.
He was just fucking with me.
Bile rises in my throat as I fight the urge to dash to the bathroom and empty the contents of my stomach.
Sergey nods and tucks the gun into the holster. “No. It is my child, allegedly.” His eyes not leaving the sight of my stomach for even a bit.
My nails dig into my palms as I fight back another wave of tears. “If you don’t believe me, then kill me now. Bullet through the brain. It’s what you wanted to do when you found out I ran away, isn’t it?”
Goading him is wrong, but one way or another, this needs to end.
“Nobody is going to buy a pregnant woman from you. Neither can you harvest my organs anytime soon. I am of no use, end me now.”
A flash of hesitance flickers through his gaze.
As soon as the emotion appears, it’s gone again, and a cold-blooded beast is standing in front of me. He crosses his arms, muscles flexing.
“She could be telling the truth,” Denis says, his voice low as he stands next to Sergey. “What do you want to do, boss?”
“Fuck.” Sergey utters the curse like a promise as he spins away from me.
Is he going to let me go?”
My breath hitches, a foolish wave of hope rolling through me. If he believes that the baby is his, there is no way that he would kill me.
I may not know much, but I know that family matters to the Bratva.
But does it matter to him? Is the potential of having a family enough for him to keep me alive?
I don’t know. I wish that I did.
If he is hesitating now, I might have a chance to live.
Denis clears his throat. “Boss, what do you want to do?”
Sergey’s hands curl into fists before he uncrosses his arms. “Back to New York. Take her with you. And then as soon as she lands, get a fucking paternity test.”
He wants the heir.
I might have a chance at staying alive after all.
His upper lip curls as we maintain intense eye contact. “I may have been fond of you once, but if this is a lie, consider yourself dead already.”
“I need to make a phone call before you take me.”
