All Chapters of A Taste of the Bratva King: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Tamara"What are you talking about?" I croak, wishing my voice was stronger.But even as I ask the question, fragments of conversations with Jason begin reassembling in my mind. The strange mortgage. The unexplained success rates. The adoption records that didn't add up. The growing certainty that Dad wasn't the man I thought he was.Viktor's smile takes on an almost pitying quality, like he's about to explain something simple to a child. His voice drips with contempt as he continues."Oh, you don't know? Poor little Tamara, you have no idea who your father really was." He pauses, savoring my confusion. "Dr. Jesse Yevgeniy— respected gynecologist, pillar of the community. What a fucking joke." He scoffs.I can only shake my head, my mouth dry as sand."Your precious daddy was running a black-market baby operation that would make your head spin. We had a network spanning three countries— desperate birth mothers in Eastern Europe, wealthy couples in America willing to pay anything for a

SergeiI pull on a black silk robe, tie the sash with steady fingers that don't betray the anxiety simmering beneath my skin. Then the leather mask, black and smooth, transforming me into a shadow of who I really am.This is the moment of truth.The thought echoes as I leave the bathroom, footsteps silent on plush carpet. I will talk to Tamara. We will clear things up. I just have to pick the right moment to reveal that it is me, Sergei Sidorov, behind this mask.The hallway seems longer on the return journey, each step carrying me closer to a confrontation I've rehearsed countless times. What will she think when I tell her the truth? That the man who destroyed her family is the same man who worshipped her body in darkness? How will she react when she realizes that every gentle touch, every whispered endearment in Room 5 came from hands that have taken her father from her?I'm rehearsing the scene in my head. The explanations I'll give, the justifications I'll offer. How I'll make her

SergeiGive me a gap, pizda.Just give me a fucking gap and I'll end you!But the bastard isn't moving, and I'm screwed. All the years of honed violence, and here I stand, at the mercy of this motherfucker and that single blade.Fuck.Fuck.FUCK!"So sad," Viktor sneers, his grip tightening on the knife handle. "A reunion of star-crossed lovers. Too bad it's going to be short-lived."The blade shifts against Tamara's throat, and another drop of blood wells up, ruby-bright against her pale skin. My hands clench into fists so tight my knuckles crack like gunshots in the silence. I've killed men for less than this. I've ended lives for looking at me wrong, for speaking out of turn, for breathing the wrong way in my presence.But now, when it matters most, I'm fucking helpless."My life for hers," I say abruptly, the words falling from my lips without hesitation, without thought, without fear. "Let her go and take me."Viktor's laugh is guttural, bordering on insanity, the sound of a man

TamaraConsciousness seeps back into me like water through cracked stone, slow and uneven.Everything feels distant, muffled— my thoughts like scattered puzzle pieces I can't quite put together.The first thing I notice is the ceiling. White ornate crown molding with expensive recessed lighting. My head thumps with a rhythm that makes thinking feel impossible, each throb sending waves of confusion through my already addled mind.Where am I?I try to sit up and immediately regret it. The world shifts sideways, nausea rolling through my stomach like a tide. My body feels foreign, disconnected— like I'm swimming up from the bottom of a deep, dark pool where sound and sensation are distorted beyond recognition.Fragments flash through my memory in jagged pieces that don't fit together properly: Viktor's face twisted with rage, the blade at my throat, the sharp burning sting as it cut my flesh. The metallic taste of fear coating my tongue. Sergei appearing like an avenging angel, violence

TamaraMemories cascade through my mind like falling dominoes, each one reshaping itself with this new, horrible knowledge. Every encounter in Room Five takes on a sinister undertone. Every gentle caress becomes a mockery. Every moment of peace I'd found in his arms was built on a lie so fundamental it makes me question everything I thought I knew about myself."You let me cry for him," I say, my voice getting stronger as anger begins to overtake shock. "You held me while I grieved for my father, knowing you were the reason he was dead."Sergei's jaw tightens, the only sign that my words affect him. "I never meant for you to get hurt.""But I did get hurt!" The words explode from me with a force that surprises us both. "I got hurt every single day! I lost everything— my father, my home, my sense of safety in the world. And you pretended to comfort me, knowing exactly why I needed comfort in the first place."The betrayal is so complete, so devastating, that I can't process it all at o