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

Chapter 20 – Julia

In the shielding comfort of my soft, oversized sweater, I stood by the window, watching the snowflakes dance outside, arms wrapped around myself. The bulk fabric hung over my curves, concealing my swollen belly and adding layers of warmth.

Bigfork, Montana, had been my safe haven, my hiding place, far beyond the reach of Roman and his family.

This was the last place anyone would ever think to look for me. It was all thanks to Agent Anderson for pulling the strings to get me out of Chicago as soon as the mission went south.

I owed him a lot—my life included.

Anderson hadn't hesitated for one second to help out with everything that I needed to get settled in this small cottage house—away from Roman's reach.

I knew he was disappointed in me for not getting the files when I had the chance. I knew he was unhappy that I blew the mission. But he'd never mentioned it, never made me feel like it was my fault the mission failed.

However, deep down, I didn't need anyone to tell me that I’d caused all this. I created this mess, and now, Anderson was the one cleaning it up. Maybe it was because he blamed himself for dragging into this fight, to begin with. I wasn't sure. But one thing that I was sure of was that there was enough blame to go around.

Every day for the past few months, I’d battled with my guilt, and every day, I lost, over and over again.

Everything was going well; the plan was progressing, and I'd just had a big breakthrough—a realization so massive it would've changed my story. Well, it did, just not in the way that I would have wanted it to.

This quest for revenge had put me in a tighter spot than I'd anticipated.

While prepping for this mission, I hadn’t ruled out the possibility of having to be on the run, considering there was a twenty percent chance of failure.

However, I never thought I'd jeopardize the mission by allowing my emotions to get the better of me. Nor did I ever think I'd get pregnant in the process.

This would have all played out differently if I hadn't been so clumsy with my secret. I should never have left my family photo in the open like that.

In my defense, though, everything had happened so fast, with the men from the club and Roman saving me. There was no way I could have known what was about to happen and prevented it.

If those men hadn't shown up at my place, Roman would never have had the chance to drop by unannounced and go through my stuff.

But none of that mattered. The mission had failed, and it was my fault.

I was trained to be perceptive, to anticipate every possible outcome of events beforehand. And for a long time, I did that, but the one time things spiraled out of my control, everything came crumbling down.

Years of training, planning, and strategizing all gone in a flash because of one stupid mistake. Everything we worked so hard to build went down the drain in seconds.

I should have been more careful.

He must hate me now, and that alone pierced my heart each time the thought crossed my mind.

I'd never been so scared of anything or anyone in my life. Roman terrified me—haunting my dreams and making my nights a living hell. A man such as himself, powerful and influential, would never stop until they repaid evil with evil. He wasn't the kind to turn the other cheek, nor was he the kind to forgive and forget.

The idea that he was still out there, using everything in his power to track me down, always sent shivers down my spine.

Although Bigfork had kept me safe for more than seven months now, I couldn't shake the feeling that my days of safety were numbered.

Roman wouldn't give up on finding me. I was certain of that. But for how long was I going to keep running?

It was already difficult having to worry about myself and my brother. And now, in less than a month's time, I'd have to worry about my newborn baby as well.

I heaved a sigh, rubbing a palm over my belly, eyes darting down at it. I couldn't make up my mind to go for an abortion; I couldn't find it in me to deprive this child of a chance at life. That was the best decision I'd made so far, and I couldn't wait to give birth, to finally meet my child.

A smile spread across my face at the thought of how handsome or beautiful it'd look in my arms. With each passing day, my love and affection for the baby in my womb grew sporadically, fueling my anticipation for the big day. I wasn't worried about the pain of childbirth. No. I looked beyond, finding solace and comfort in the joy after labor.

I had enough to lose now, and that shit scared the living daylight out of me.

My shoulders slumped, fingers pinching the bridge of my nose as I fought against the fear of Roman eventually finding us. I had no idea what he'd do to me or Tommy. Honestly, I wasn't afraid for my life—it was my brother's and my child's that were more of a concern to me.

He could drag me down to the pits of hell if he wanted; I couldn't care less. I just couldn't stomach him hurting my loved ones. He'd have to kill me first.

I turned from the window, eyes settling on Tom, who sat engrossed on the couch. He was clad in a sweater I'd woven for him—a new skill I'd learned in these months of isolation and idleness.

His gloved hands moved rapidly, twisting the corners of a Rubik's cube, his brows narrowing with rapt attention.

Tom’s health was so much better these days; he could speak more fluently now, although he still wasn't fully out of his shell yet. He was more introverted, satisfied with his own company, and developed a liking for solving puzzles.

There was nothing I wouldn't do just to see him smile, and most of the time, I'd join him in playing chess, even though he would always destroy me in the end. He was good at it, and so was I, but I'd intentionally let him win so I'd bask in the joy that came with watching him smile.

At the moment, he was my world—the only family I had left—and I was determined to make him happy despite my own brokenness inside.

Tom must have felt my gaze; he jerked his head and caught my eyes, his lips curling up into a smile.

With a warmth spreading across my chest, I glided over to him, my swollen feet cautiously carrying me across the room. “Hey,” I called, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” he replied with the same tone, lowering his Rubik's cube to indulge me.

I loved how much he respected and adored me; it always melted my heart. He'd told me a few weeks ago that I was his mom now and that my efforts to keep us safe from the bad men hadn't gone unnoticed.

His words that evening had charged my tear glands, flooding me with more emotions, especially after he slipped into my bosom.

Tom didn't know the full story; he just knew that we were hiding from some very dangerous men.

“Would you like some hot chocolate?” I asked, unable to stop myself from smiling at the handsome young man looking at me.

Tom had Dad's blue eyes, the same nose, and the same smile. It was like looking at a younger version of Anthony Gray.

“You're pregnant, Jules,” he said, rising to his feet and leaving the cube back on the couch. “You shouldn't be worrying too much about me,” he added, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Now, would you like some hot chocolate?”

My expression softened, a smile brightening my face as I nodded, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness.

He mirrored my reaction and slowly stepped away, heading to the kitchen.

I turned around and watched him leave, thinking I couldn't have asked for a better sibling.

I couldn't lose him. I couldn't lose this baby inside me. They both meant the world to me.

The fear of getting found by Roman and the heartbreaking thoughts of the inhumane things he'd do to us crept back into my mind.

Anderson planned to sneak Tom and me out of the country under false identities. According to him, my fake passport was ready, and he was working on my brother's.

The good news was that a week from now, we'd be halfway across the world.

God, I hope this works , I thought, staring at my reflection in the mirror.