Accidental Bratva Daddy (Bratva Blessings)

Chapter 3Natalia

3

Natalia

T he first rays of sunlight filter through the gauzy curtains, painting the hotel room in a soft, golden glow. I stir, my hand reaching out instinctively, seeking the warmth of Luka's body. But my fingers find only cool, empty sheets.

My eyes snap open, fully awake now. The space beside me is vacant, the pillow undisturbed. It's as if he was never here at all.

"Luka?" I call out, my voice rough with sleep. Silence answers me.

I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest as I scan the room. His clothes are gone, the only evidence of our night together the rumpled bedding and the lingering scent of his cologne on the pillow.

No note. No text. Nothing.

A knot forms in my stomach, equal parts disappointment and irritation. I shouldn't be surprised—this is what powerful men do, isn't it? Take what they want and disappear before the sun rises. But some foolish, romantic part of me had hoped...

I shake my head, banishing the thought. It was just one night, I remind myself sternly. A moment of reckless abandon before returning to the real world. Nothing more.

Still, as I shower and dress for the day, I can't shake the feeling of unfinished business. The ghost of Luka's touch lingers on my skin, and when I close my eyes, I can still see the intensity in his gaze as he moved above me.

"Get it together, Natalia," I mutter to my reflection as I apply a light layer of makeup. "You have a family vacation to focus on."

I finish packing quickly, double-checking that I have everything I need for a week on Isla Miramar. As I zip up my suitcase, my phone buzzes with a text from Alina.

Where are you? We're waiting in the lobby. Dad's getting antsy.

I grimace, glancing at the time. I hadn't realized how late it was getting.

On my way, I type back. Sorry for the delay.

With one last look around the room to make sure I haven't forgotten anything, I head out. As the door clicks shut behind me, I force thoughts of Luka to the back of my mind. It's time to focus on family.

The elevator ride to the lobby feels interminable. When the doors finally open, I'm greeted by the sight of my family huddled together near the check-out desk. My father paces back and forth, checking his watch every few seconds, while my mother tries to calm him down.

"There you are!" Alina exclaims as I approach. "We were about to send a search party."

"Sorry, sorry," I say, flashing an apologetic smile. "I overslept."

My father's eyebrows shoot up. "Overslept? That's not like you, Natalia."

I shrug, hoping my face doesn't betray the memories of last night that flash through my mind. "Late night working on designs," I lie smoothly. "Lost track of time. You know how it is.”

He seems to accept this, nodding briskly. "Well, we'd better get moving. We don't want to miss our flight."

As we make our way to the waiting car, I can't help but notice the tension radiating off my father. His jaw is clenched, his movements stiff and jerky. It's so unlike his usual easy demeanor that I find myself watching him closely as we drive to the airport.

I wonder if someone said something to him last night, or if he ended up overhearing the gossip going around. I thought him to be impervious to it, but now I’m beginning to have doubts.

The usually cool plush leather seat feels sticky and uncomfortable beneath me, and I have to peel myself off of it when we arrive at the airport.

The flight to Isla Miramar is uneventful, but I can't shake the growing sense of unease that settles over me as we near our destination. My father is oddly quiet, his usual easy charm replaced by a tense silence. Even Alina seems subdued, her cheerful chatter noticeably absent.

"Is everything okay?" I whisper to her as we begin our descent.

Alina glances at our parents before leaning in close. "I'm not sure," she replies. "Dad's been acting weird ever since he got off the phone with Uncle Viktor this morning. Something about a change of plans."

I frown, my unease deepening. "What kind of change?"

But before Alina can answer, the captain's voice crackles over the intercom, announcing our final approach. The conversation is put on hold as we prepare for landing.

As we disembark and make our way through the small island airport, the tension only grows. Uncle Viktor is waiting for us at baggage claim, his broad smile not quite reaching his eyes.

"Welcome to paradise!" he booms, pulling my father into a bear hug. I don't miss the way my father stiffens at the contact, or the fleeting look of... something that passes between them.

"Viktor," my father says, his voice carefully neutral. "I trust your flight was smooth?"

Uncle Viktor waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, you know how it is. Private jets make everything easier." He winks at Alina and me. "You girls should try it sometime."

I force a smile, but something about Uncle Viktor's jovial manner feels off. It's too bright, too forced, like he's overcompensating for something.

As we load our luggage into the waiting cars, Uncle Viktor clears his throat. "Ah, Igor, there's been a small change of plans. We've switched hotels."

My father's head snaps up, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean, switched hotels? We've had these reservations for months."

Uncle Viktor shrugs, the picture of nonchalance. "I know, I know. But an opportunity came up at the last minute. A friend of mine offered us his private villa. Much more secluded, better security. You understand."

The muscle in my father's jaw ticks, a sure sign he's angry. "Viktor, the whole point of staying at the resort was to keep everyone together. That's why I booked it in the first place."

"Oh, come now, brother," Uncle Viktor says, clapping my father on the shoulder. "No need to get worked up. Tell you what, why don't you take the Presidential Suite? It's grand, plenty of room for all of you. Consider it my treat."

For a moment, I think my father might argue. But then he sighs, the fight seeming to drain out of him. "Fine," he says shortly. "Let's just get to the hotel. It's been a long day."

As we climb into the cars, I catch Alina's eye. She looks as confused and unsettled as I feel. Something is definitely off between our father and uncle, but I can't put my finger on what.

The drive to the resort is beautiful, winding roads offering glimpses of pristine beaches and lush jungle. But I barely notice the scenery, too preoccupied with the growing knot of anxiety in my stomach.

When we arrive at the hotel, Uncle Viktor makes a show of checking us in and escorting us to the Presidential Suite. It's undeniably impressive, a sprawling space with a large master bedroom, two smaller bedrooms, and three luxurious bathrooms. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the ocean.

"Well, what do you think?" Uncle Viktor asks, spreading his arms wide. "Not too shabby, eh?"

My mother makes the appropriate noises of appreciation, but I can see the strain around her eyes. She knows something's wrong, too.

"It's lovely, Viktor," my father says stiffly. "Thank you for your... generosity."

Uncle Viktor grins, but there's something sharp in his eyes. "My pleasure, brother. After all, we didn't need all this extra space anyway. Enjoy your stay."

With that, he's gone, leaving us alone in the cavernous suite. For a moment, we all just stand there, the silence thick with unspoken tension.

Finally, my father clears his throat. "Well, let's get settled in, shall we? It's been a long day."

We disperse to our respective rooms, but the uneasy feeling follows me. As I unpack, my mind races with possibilities. What's going on between my father and uncle to make them so tense? Why the last-minute change of plans? And why can't I shake the feeling that something terrible is about to happen?

There’s a coiling heat in my stomach that has nothing to do with waking up alone in a bed that had a man in it last night.

I'm halfway through hanging up my dresses when there's a soft knock at my door. "Come in," I call out, expecting Alina.

To my surprise, it's my mother who enters, her face drawn with worry. "Natalia, darling," she says, perching on the edge of my bed. "Is everything alright? You seem distracted since we arrived."

I pause, considering how much to reveal. "I'm fine, Mama," I say finally. "Just tired from the trip, I guess. But... is everything okay with Papa and Uncle Viktor? They seem tense.”

My mother's smile is strained. "Oh, you know how brothers can be. Always some little disagreement or another about something small and petty. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

But I can see the lie in her eyes, the way her hands twist nervously in her lap. Whatever's going on, it's more serious than she's letting on. Serious enough that I think she wants to talk about it.

"Mama," I say softly, sitting beside her. "What's really happening? You can tell me. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

She looks at me for a long moment, conflict clear on her face. Then she sighs, her shoulders slumping. "I don't know all the details," she admits. "But your father... he's been worried about something. Late-night phone calls, hushed conversations. And now this sudden change with Viktor..." She shakes her head. "I just hope he knows what he's doing."

I want to press for more information, but something in my mother's expression stops me. She looks tired, worried in a way I've never seen before. So instead, I just take her hand, squeezing it gently. "It'll be okay, Mama," I say, trying to infuse my voice with a confidence I don't feel. "We're all together. That's what matters, right?"

She smiles, some of the tension easing from her face. "You're right, of course. My wise girl." She pats my cheek affectionately. "Get some rest, darling. Things always look brighter in the morning."

As she leaves, I can't help but wonder if that's true. Because right now, the future looks anything but bright.

The rest of the evening passes in a haze of forced normalcy. We have dinner in the suite, the conversation stilted and awkward. My father barely touches his food, his eyes constantly darting to his phone. Uncle Viktor doesn't join us, citing some vague business commitment.

By the time night falls, I'm exhausted, more from the emotional strain than physical fatigue. I say goodnight to my family and retreat to my room, hoping that sleep will clear my head.

But as I drift off, images of Luka flash through my mind. His intense blue eyes, the feel of his hands on my skin, the way he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. I fall asleep with his name on my lips, tossing and turning in my cold lonely sheets.

A scream pierces the night, jolting me awake. For a moment, I'm disoriented, the unfamiliar surroundings throwing me off balance. Then I hear it again—my mother's voice, high and terrified.