Page 51 of The Bratva’s Stalked Pregnant Bride

We went straight past the bar to the dance floor, where white lights glimmered over the crush of dancers and brightly colored strobes flashed along in time to the thumping beats. I couldn’t hear Mik’s laughter as he grabbed my hand and sent me twirling away from him, then tugged me back before I jammed into someone else.

“I normally hate places like this,” he said right next to my ear the next time we bounced off of each other. “But every place is my favorite when you’re with me.”

I made a face at him, but he didn’t care at all how corny he was, and there was nothing but the truth in his eyes. “Me too,” I admitted.

So we were at a place we wouldn’t usually go under threat of death, but still having the time of our lives. On the few occasions Rand deigned to take me out somewhere, it was always clear he was only out to network and be seen, and there was nothing but impatience for it to be over in his eyes.

It was the opposite with Mik, and for the first time in my life, I was at a club when they turned on the lights and told everyone to go home.

Mik’s arm was around me in the pitch-black of night, with only the neon club sign and the stars overhead lighting the area where we waited for the car. I didn’t know where Mik’s driver went while we were at dinner, but he’d followed us into the club, and I caught a glimpse of him near the bar, sipping on a club soda while we danced. Now he slid into the driver’s seat without a hint of resentment, and I hoped he got to chat up a nice woman, maybe get her number for having to wait around for us.

It was still so bizarre to not only have a driver, but one that followed us from LA, and I wondered how much Mik paid him, along with the security guy he brought up, which I was sure was solely for my benefit.

It was crazy, but also felt so right and… normal. Mik was mega, super, uber rich, but he was one of the most down-to-earth guys I ever knew. He loved a good beer after work, and he was dedicated to his job and his family. I could easily see this marriage turning real with the way we were getting along, perfectly in sync.

Was it too much to ask to permanently end up with someone as safe and sane as Mik? A flicker of sadness there was no reason to feel began to well up, and I shoved it aside to enjoy the rest of the night, or rather, the early morning, because there was no way we were going to sleep yet.

The driver pulled up to the front of the resort, spotlights illuminating the palm trees beside the entrance. Mik opened the door before the driver could get out and do it for us, cutting the formality after such a long night. Before we could get inside, the driver called him over.

“I can’t get a hold of Georgiy,” he said in a low voice. Since there was no music being piped through the outdoor speakers at that hour, I caught every word. “It’s probably nothing.”

“It’s three in the morning. He’s probably asleep. But take the stairs and meet us up there,” Mik said, his face set in stone.

When he turned back to me, he smiled as if he didn’t just get news he clearly didn’t like. “Is everything okay?” I asked.

He punched the elevator number and drew me close. “Your room or mine?” he asked, leaning down to nip the side of my neck. My weak spot. It didn’t keep me from noticing he didn’t answer my question.

“Yours is bigger,” I said. If he wasn’t worried, why should I be? “But mine has a better view of the mountains.”

“I’m not going to be looking out the window,” he said, his eyes locked on me, slowly traveling down my body and back up. I could feel his eyes like a caress and leaned into him.

On our floor, we broke apart, and he subtly nudged me behind him as we set off toward his room. He swiped his key card and shoved the door open, no longer looking so relaxed. I felt myself stiffening, my feet heavy as I took another step to follow him into the room.

This was just an unnecessary panic response, leftover trauma. Everything was fine. Mik was about to take me in his arms again, and soon we’d be naked and tumbling onto the bed.

“Stop,” he said harshly, his hand jutting out to keep me from taking another step.

The rich smell of wine filled my nostrils, and for once it didn’t make me want to breathe deep and savor it. Too strong, too out of place.

“Clear,” Mik’s driver said, appearing from the adjoining door that led to my room. “Just a mess.”

Mik snapped on the lights, and I gasped, reaching for his hand at the same time he tucked me under his arm, close to his side. His hand dug into my shoulder as I looked at the room. A mess was an understatement.

Red wine stained the sheer curtains and the linen bedding, puddles of it soaked into the pale beige carpet. Broken glass lay everywhere, along with empty bottles strewn on the bed and floor.

Mik took a few steps further in, shaking his head and muttering swear words under his breath. I stayed glued to his side, stepping on a cork and sending it skidding under the bed. More corks lay everywhere, and the heavy scent began to overwhelm me.

Letting go of me to lean down, Mik picked up one of the bottles and held it up so I could see. The top had been jaggedly broken off, but the label was still intact and clear to read.

I swayed on my feet, grabbing Mik’s arm to keep from falling into the red stains that were everywhere, like blood.

All of the bottles were familiar now that I really looked at the other ones that weren’t smashed. All the labels had the same logo atop the vintage.

Canyon Vines.

Chapter 30 - Mikhail

I should have known from the moment my driver couldn’t contact the security guard I left behind at the hotel that something was off. It didn’t matter how late it was, Georgiy wouldn’t have fallen asleep. Not after we were both certain that Rand had run rather than face me.