Traded to His Enemy, Pregnant With His Heir novel · Chapter 34 of 48
Chapter 34: Before I Remember
Ilya's POV
At noon a photo came to my phone from a number in Southie.
It was her, in a soft chair by a coal fire, in bloody scrubs, with her wrists taped in front of her.
Under it was one line.
"My daughter's home with her da. Leave her be, Russian."
I read it three times.
Then I walked into the dining room and put the phone face up in the middle of the long table.
"Daughter," the oldest one said.
"Conlon's?" said another. "The nurse is Conlon's?"
"Irish blood," said my youngest brigadier, the one with the shaved head.
He said it like a man who'd been proved right.
"Bellucci's wife, then yours, and Conlon's daughter the whole time. Pakhan, she walked into his pub."
"Now she's sitting by his fire."
"With her hands taped," I said.
"For the photo."
Nobody laughed.
The man beside him leaned back in his chair.
"Let the Irish keep her," he said. "It's their blood. It's their war. We've buried two men this month already."
The rest of this chapter is part of the paid portion of the series. Chapters 1–12 of Traded to His Enemy, Pregnant With His Heir are free to read — start from the beginning, then unlock the rest with coins in the app.
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