Forced By the Ruthless Bratva Beast (Tarasov Bratva #3)

Chapter 10 – Julia

I shouldn't be feeling this way. His touch shouldn't have this effect on me. No.

I paced back and forth, absentmindedly chewing on my nails as I thought about how terrible this was for me.

This was all shades of bad—it was wrong from whatever perspective I chose to look at it. I couldn't let my feelings control me. I was supposed to be in charge, but sadly, I wasn't.

It had been four days since the auction, four days of distraction from my mission. No matter how hard I tried to focus on the task at hand, I always found myself reliving the night we’d fucked.

This hadn't happened before, and I'd thought that I was immune to his charms. Clearly, I wasn't. It was as if his touch had ignited the burning desire in me, and right now, all I wanted was him.

I wanted to feel him deep inside me again, to feel his breath on my skin, his tongue in my mouth, his strong arms all over my body. I wanted to taste him. Literally.

“No!” I slapped my forehead in frustration, my heart racing as my body tensed. “No, no, no, no! This cannot be happening,” I muttered, groaning with my eyes shut and my head jerked toward the ceiling.

I tried to remind myself why I was doing this, but the more I tried, the more I failed. It was as though my heart and my brain were at war, and neither was willing to lose.

I cupped my face in my palms, letting out a deep sigh as I slumped into a chair by my table. “What are you doing, Jules? You need to concentrate,” I said to myself, fingers massaging my temples in a shooting motion.

It was almost impossible to stay focused, especially with all these nasty thoughts that occupied my mind, leaving me sexually frustrated. I could feel my pussy tingle between my legs, my nipples standing erect. I was horny just thinking of him. Fuck.

My hands flew into my silky dark hair, smoothing it backward as my eyes widened at the effect Roman's touch was having on me. I couldn't get him out of my mind; I couldn't stop thinking about him. Why was that?

Roman was responsible for my parents’ murder. My brother was numb and in the hospital because of him. His touch should repulse me; the mere thought of him should irritate me. Yet, none of that was the case here. It was the exact opposite.

How could I be attracted to the man who had made me an orphan, the man who had set me on the path of revenge?

My parents would be disappointed in me. I'd be letting them down if I continued like this. I'd be letting myself down.

I scratched the back of my head, fingers grazing over my scalp. My mind was ruined—too many things to juggle. It was chaotic, and I was stuck in this whirlwind of confusion. I knew my feelings were out of place, but I couldn't help it.

It felt like my brain was about to explode.

“Goddamn it.”

I rose to my feet again, hands on my head as I thought of a way out of this mess.

I was in desperate need of an escape plan, or I could risk ruining what I had spent years planning.

Maybe I should confess to Agent Anderson—maybe I should tell him how I felt. But on second thought, that would be a terrible idea. How would he look at me? He'd be disappointed, and he'd think that I didn't value my parents enough to want to avenge them.

I walked over to my full-length mirror and stood in front of it, staring at my reflection. “Take a deep breath, Julia,” I said to myself, following my own instructions. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.” I repeated the routine over and over again with closed eyes.

I needed to let go of this feeling. It was bad energy, and I needed it out of my system. The struggle was a tough one, and I fought to push these illicit thoughts to the back of my mind.

As light as a feather, I emptied my mind, feeling the tension slowly ooze out of me. I let go of the thoughts that held me bound all day, constantly reminding myself of the mission.

I remembered my parents’ lifeless bodies, my brother's numbness at the gruesome sight—the PTSD he suffered. And just like that, I could feel all that lust seeping out of me. I buried whatever nasty ideas I'd cooked up in my head and occupied my mind with the mission. I'd come too far to mess it all up.

A wave of nausea hit me, causing my stomach to twist in discomfort. My palm reflexively flew to my mouth as I rushed to the restroom and dropped to my knees in front of the toilet seat.

For the next few seconds, I vomited what I’d had for breakfast, and just as I lifted my head, I felt so dizzy. There was a ringing in my ears. My head was heavy, and it was aching badly—throbbing relentlessly.

I groaned in pain, wiping the back of my hand over my mouth as I flushed the toilet and rose to my feet. In front of the sink, I turned on the tap and slowly lowered my head to rinse my mouth and wash my face.

Once done, I jerked my head, watching my reflection in the bathroom mirror. With a towel, I wiped my face, wondering what had made me so nauseous. Was it what I’d eaten this morning? I only had coffee and some pancakes—nothing out of the ordinary. So, what happened?

I dug my fingers into my temples in an attempt to soothe the ache that plagued my heavy head. Hanging my towel back, I sluggishly glided out of the bathroom, rubbing my palms over my eyeballs in a massaging motion.

Back in my room, I tossed myself on my bed, battling with this sudden migraine that occupied one section of my head.

My TV had been turned on this entire time, but the chatter on the screen now seemed louder, prompting me to wince in agony. I grabbed the remote and turned down the volume.

Much better.

I let out a sigh, my fingers relentlessly pushing into my temples as I returned my thoughts to the mission.

The plan was working. Roman was starting to develop some sort of obsession for me. He was clearly interested in me now more than before. I'd managed to slip my way into his stone-cold heart, and now, it was time to move to the next phase.

All I had to do was get close enough to him so I could get my hands on the evidence needed to put him away for good.

Victory was close; I could feel it. I just needed to keep playing my part without any unnecessary distractions. It was the only way I was going to get back at him for what he'd done to my family.

I exhaled sharply, picking up my phone from the bed. I'd managed to persuade the manager at Jupiter to give me the boss' number, and now, staring at my lit screen, I typed in a text.

Hey, you busy? Can we talk? It's me, Julia.

I hit the send icon and tossed the phone aside, fingers rubbing over my forehead. The headache was killing me.

My eyes jerked at the TV, where a woman was being interviewed about some early signs of pregnancy. My breath ceased for a moment, and my brows furrowed as I fixed my gaze on the list of signs plastered on my screen.

Grabbing the remote, I turned up the volume just in time to hear her say, “Nausea, early morning sickness, fatigue, headaches, dizziness, swollen breasts, tiredness, loss of appetite—in some women, though, the reverse is the case; they tend to eat a lot.” She demonstrated with her hands as she spoke, her countenance exuding confidence and professionalism.

“What about a missed period?” the interviewer, a blonde woman in a black suit, asked the guest speaker, clad in a patterned red dress.

The guest speaker pressed her index against the bridge of her wire-rimmed glasses. “Well, that goes without saying.”

The two women burst out laughing, and the interviewer turned to face the camera. “You heard her, so check yourself. If you're having one or more or all of these symptoms, there's a 99.9 percent chance that you're pregnant.”

Instantly, my brain began to run some calculations, analyzing everything I’d just heard. My heart was pounding in my chest as I realized that I had been experiencing a lot of these symptoms for the past few days now—tiredness, fatigue, headache, dizziness, and now nausea.

My eyes widened, and my breath hitched in my throat as I tried to recall the last time I had my period.

Shit!

My hand flew to my mouth in fear as it finally hit me. I'd been so busy chasing after Roman that I didn't realize I'd missed my period by two weeks, and it'd been a little over a month since we had sex.

“No.”

My jaw dropped at the possibility that I just might be carrying Roman's baby inside me.

How fucked up was that?

My body stiffened, and I sat there, frozen in shock, overwhelmed by a sudden cold that caused my body to shudder.

This is bad. This is really bad.