Page 40 of Unexpected Bratva Baby
The truth is, I’m not ready at all. My stomach churns with anticipation and dread. Mikhail’s sudden call, demanding I return home immediately, only confirmed the suspicions that had been growing in my mind throughout this trip.
“I’m sure Mikhail’s hiding something from me. Those men who were following us... I mean, who sends bodyguards without telling their girlfriend?”
Nastya’s expression softens. “Perhaps he was just concerned for your safety?”
I shake my head, frustration bubbling up inside me. “But why not tell me? And it’s not just that. There are phone calls he won’t take around me and meetings that come up at odd hours. Sometimes, I catch this look in his eyes... like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.”
“Men can be strange creatures,” she says with a small laugh. “Especially successful businessmen like Mikhail. I’m sure he has his reasons.”
Her words are meant to be comforting, but they do little to ease the knot in my stomach. I open my mouth to press further, but an announcement cuts through the air, calling for first-class passengers to board.
We gather our things and make our way to the gate. As we settle into our seats on the plane, the reality of what I’m about to do hits me full force. I’m flying back to confront the man I love about the secrets he’s keeping from me. “What if I’m wrong?” I whisper to Nastya as the plane begins to taxi. “What if I’m just being paranoid and ruining everything?”
Nastya reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Then you’ll apologize, and if Mikhail is the man you believe him to be, he’ll understand, but Phoebe, trust your instincts. They’re usually right.”
I nod, trying to draw strength from her words. As the plane lifts off, leaving the misty Scottish landscape behind, I close my eyelids and take a deep breath. Whatever awaits me in Miami, I’m determined to face it head-on.
Hours pass, and I end up pouring out my heart to Nastya as my fears and worries build. I describe the whirlwind romance, the lavish dates, and the quiet moments that made me fall in love. “But lately,” I say, my voice catching, “It’s like there’s this wall between us. I catch glimpses of something...darker behind his eyes.”
Nastya listens attentively, her expression sympathetic. “Have you tried talking to him about it?”
I nod. “I’ve tried, but he always deflects. Says it’s just work stress or changes the subject entirely. I want to believe him, but...”
“But your gut is telling you otherwise,” she finishes for me.
“Exactly.” I sigh, looking out the window at the endless expanse of clouds below. “I love him, Nastya. I really do, but I worry there’s a whole other side to Mikhail that I don’t know about.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. “Relationships are built on trust, Phoebe. If you’re having doubts, you need to address them head-on.”
I turn back to her. “You’re right. No more dancing around the issue. When we land, I’m going to confront Mikhail and demand the truth.”
As if on cue, the captain’s voice crackles over the intercom, announcing our descent into Miami. My heart rate picks up, a mixture of nerves and determination coursing through me.
Nastya gives my hand one final squeeze as we prepare for landing. “You can do this.”
The plane touches down with a gentle bump, and as we taxi to the gate, I steel myself for what’s to come. The warm Miami airhits me as we step off the plane, a shock compared to the cool Scottish climate we left behind.
As we make our way through the airport, my phone buzzes with a text from Mikhail.
“Can’t wait to see you,solnyshko. Car waiting outside.”
I show the message to Nastya, my hands shaking slightly. “This is it.”
She nods, her expression serious. “You’ve got this, Phoebe. Just be honest and stand your ground.”
We collect our luggage and head toward the exit. With each step, the prospect of the impending confrontation makes my feet feel heavier, but beneath the anxiety, there’s a spark of fortitude. Whatever Mikhail’s hiding, whatever secrets he’s been keeping, I’m ready to face the truth.
The glass doors of “Miami International Airport” slide open, and a wave of humid air washes over me. I’m suddenly queasy and pause to take a deep breath while squinting against the bright Florida sun, searching for Mikhail’s familiar face. Nastya stands close by my side, scanning the crowd with an intensity that seems out of place for a casual travel companion.
“There he is,” I say, spotting Mikhail’s tall frame by a sleek black limousine.
My treacherous heart pounds at the sight of him, but something’s off. His jaw is clenched, and he’s looking around every few seconds as several men in dark suits surround him and the limousine. It’s not the warm welcome I’d expected after our time apart.
“Phoebe.” He waves to me when he sees me, and his voice is strained. “Hurry, we need to?—”
The rest of his words are drowned out by a deafening crack. For a split second, I think it’s thunder. Then I see the spark of gunfire, and reality crashes down on me.
“Get down,” shouts Nastya, her hand on my back, pushing me toward the ground.
