The party was over, and all the guests had returned to their various homes, leaving just a few Tarasovs behind.
My jacket draped over the backrest of my chair, my tie hanging loose around my neck as I sat, cradling a glass of whiskey. Across from me were my cousins, Daniel, Scarlett’s husband, and Sergei, the grumpy one, a man of few words.
I could feel their gazes on me, even though I had my eyes fixed on the most beautiful woman in the room. I hadn’t seen her this happy before—never. And watching her smile genuinely with her old friend, Scarlett, melted my stone-cold heart. Her gaze flickered in my direction, her lips curling into a radiant smile.
This was the best decision I’d made in a long time, and I wasn’t going to regret it. I chose her over Helen, and I’d repeat that choice over and over again because she was worth it. It was useless lying to myself when I knew deep down that she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
I’d grown so fond of her over these past few weeks, and I couldn’t honestly picture my life without her in it. She and our unborn child were the center of my life, and I would do just about anything to keep them both safe. Alessia was my missing rib, and as abstract as it may sound, she was the woman who completed me. She was my better half, the compassionate part of me.
My brothers may or may not be angry with me over this decision. As a Bratva leader, my priorities should first lie with the brotherhood. I should put the Bratva over my own personal interests. I knew this, and for decades, the organization came first in all my dealings. However, this time, I chose my happiness over whatever benefited my alliance with the Orlov family, what the organization might gain.
I had no feelings for Helen—none whatsoever. After listening to Dmitry’s ordeal with his wife, I realized that wasn’t the type of life I wanted for myself. The man’s marriage was a misery, and although they lived in the same house and probably shared the same bed, they hated each other’s guts.
Helen might not hate me now, but if I went ahead and married her, she would eventually. This would be because she’d realize that my heart belonged to another—the mother of my child. Our families would benefit from our union while we lived in misery like Dmitry and his wife. That was a risk too big to take. It wasn’t worth it.
Although a good number of the Tarasov men before me married their wives in the same manner—arranged—at the end of the day, they were all happy. They learned to love their wives and vice versa. I, on the other hand, couldn’t learn to love Helen, not when my heart already beat for another woman.
Choosing Alessia was the right move, not just for me, but also for our unborn baby.
“Now that the cat’s out of the bag, I’m just gonna ask,” Daniel began, his words cutting through my thoughts like a knife. “Why her?”
I turned to face him, my gaze shifting between him and Sergei as the women’s soft laughter echoed in the background.
“Why not her?” I teased, my lips curling into a faint smile.
“Helen Orlov,” he replied, leaning in, eyes fixed on me. “You could’ve married her as planned. The alliance would have been solid.”
“Alessia is carrying my child, Daniel,” I said to him, an almost imperceptible scowl flashing across my face, a testament of my displeasure.
“Helen would have raised him as her own,” Sergei chipped in, his voice low and even.
I scoffed, combing my fingers through my hair, a glint of disbelief flickering in my gaze. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you two are angry because I blew the alliance—the contract with the Orlov family.”
Daniel’s face contorted into a frown. “Come on, you know that’s not true.”
“Really, then what is it?” I demanded, wearing the same solemn expression as him, elbows on my lap. “Because it sure seems like you’re both coming at me for choosing my happiness over the brotherhood.”
“Temper, temper, Nik.” Sergei’s eyes narrowed, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “No one’s saying that.”
His words, calm and gentle, somehow eased the brewing tension hovering in the air. I knew they didn’t mean it like that, but I couldn’t stomach even the thought of living an imaginary life without Alessia.
I exhaled sharply, rubbing my eyes. “Look, I didn’t choose the Romano girl just because she’s carrying my child.” My gaze shifted between my cousins.
Daniel’s eyes bore into mine, his face softening, a smile breaking through. “Son of a bitch.” He chuckled. “You love her, don’t you?”
I pursed my lips, struggling to suppress the grin underneath. My eyes left the group and settled on my beautiful Alessia, where she sat, engrossed in a conversation with Scarlett. “Did you know they’re old friends?” I asked, throwing the question at Scarlett’s husband, Daniel.
“It’s a small world, Nik,” he replied, slightly raising his glass.
I’d avoided Daniel’s question about being in love with Alessia. But the look on my face, the fact that I couldn’t tear my gaze off her, was all the answer he needed. She looked so happy, so genuinely happy, that I wondered if she’d ever be like that around me. Her deep brown eyes sparkled with mirth as she moved her hands here and there while discussing with Scarlett.
The truth was that I cared so deeply for her. And the way my heart skipped each time I looked at her, the flutter that rose in my chest whenever I set my eyes on her, made it clear what I felt.
Love. Pure, undiluted love.
I shifted my gaze back to my cousin and said, my voice mild and gentle, “You’re happily married, Daniel.” I paused for a second before continuing, “As are all the Tarasov men that tied the knot before you.” I stole one more glance at my new fiancée, a genuine grin playing on my lips. “I want that, too.”
Daniel patted my shoulder and raised his chin, about to speak. However, just before his lips could move, I sensed it—danger. It was like an alarm had gone off in my head, and my years of training kicked in. Time stood still as I listened to the muffled voices outside, accompanied by heavy footsteps. Guns were cocked, the familiar sound echoing in my ears.
“Blast that fucking door!” a thick, raucous voice dripping with venom commanded.
My eyes widened, adrenaline kicked in, and in that moment, no one else mattered to me than Alessia and our unborn baby. “Everyone, get down!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, leaping out of my chair.
Breathes ceased, and confusion set in merely seconds before the blast. The front door exploded with a deafening roar, a shockwave of fire and splinters rippling across the space. I was already in motion, sprinting toward my beloved Alessia, when the blast hurled me off my feet, knocking me completely off course. I flew across the room, my back crashing hard against the liquor shelf at the minibar behind me. Glass shattered to the floor in a cascade of gleaming shards as expensive bottles burst like fireworks.
With the dust settling and the explosion still ringing in my ears, heavy boots pounded into the room. As I struggled to get back up, I watched armed men in black storm in, rifles raised. Instinctively, I rolled over to the other side, seeking shelter behind the counter as bullets tore through the air like angry hornets. I heard the two women screaming at the top of their lungs, terrified of this invasion.
I sprang up the moment the shooting stopped for a split second; it was my window, and I didn’t hesitate to take it. My foot connected with my first victim’s jaw, forcing him to stagger at the impact. Before he could make a move, I’d already struck him in the throat, and while the pain registered, I snatched his weapon and fired twice, two bullets to the chest.
Daniel and Sergei joined me, lining up behind me, and together, we moved like a single shadow, ducking, weaving, and striking. My cousins were fast enough to disarm their attackers and take their weapons. Bullets rained, deafening gunshots ringing out amidst the chaos. The room, once a haven for a good time, had now turned into a fuckin’ battlefield.
Another man lunged at me. Too slow.
I spun, driving my elbow into his jaw, then kicked the rifle from his hands and fired at his forehead. More gunfire erupted in every direction as I fought side by side with my cousins. Our coordination was sharp and precise from the countless battles we’d fought together over the years. This wasn’t our first rodeo, and to us, chaos was just another Tuesday.
Meanwhile, Alessia and Scarlett crouched behind a flipped table, hands over their ears, eyes wide with horror as bullets thudded onto the woods shielding them.
My jaw tightened in rage at the sight of my pregnant fiancée, helpless and in danger. With a precise shot, I fired once, and the shooter’s head jerked back, his blood splattering over the wall behind him. He dropped to his knees before his lifeless body thudded to the floor.
For every man my cousins and I took down, two more emerged.
“Exactly how many people are there?” Daniel’s voice rang out as he fired, throwing kicks and punches.
The real question was, who the fuck were they?
My gun clicked empty. “Shit. I’m out!” I announced, striking my opponent with the base of the gun.
“Me, too!” Sergei said, ducking behind a toppled stool.
Daniel and Sergei both knocked down their attackers and joined me at the center of the room. Just then, a dozen rifles closed in on us, barrels gleaming. The room fell still, thick with sweat and tension.
We were outnumbered—surrounded.
“They say, where two or three Tarasov men are gathered, chaos is not too far behind,” a familiar voice spoke, deep and venomous.
I exchanged glances with my cousins, my head tilting slightly to the side as I watched a figure emerge from the faint smoke that surrounded the front door.
The speaker stepped out into the open, a cigar between his lips. “What’s the matter, Nik? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, wearing a corny, self-satisfied smirk.
“Dante Romano,” I called, my jaw tightening.
“In the flesh,” he replied, halting in front of me. “Now, where the fuck is my daughter?”
“Dad?” Alessia called softly, rising from behind the flipped table, her dress and some parts of her face stained with dust.
He turned in her direction, his smile fading as soon as she stepped out into view. His eyes dropped to her belly, and his brows knitted together, creases forming between them. He watched her move closer, but instead of going to him, she stood by my side, fingers intertwined with mine.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his voice filled with rage and impatience, his eyes fixed on her swollen belly.
“Dad, I can explain,” she said, her tone soft but laced with fear.
He glared at me, fury simmering beneath the surface. “You did this,” he growled, lunging in my direction. “You son of a bitch!” Dante struck me in the face. Hard.
The impact pushed me back a couple of feet, and he wouldn’t stop. “You bastard—fuckin’ Russian scum!”
I didn’t fight back. I just let him vent, each strike seemingly harder than the other. My cousins wanted to intervene, but I shook my head, signaling them not to.
“Dad, stop!” Alessia yelled, begging. “Stop, you’re hurting him!”
Even when I dropped to the floor, Dante didn’t refrain himself; he pounced on me, drilling heavy punches into my face. He could hear his daughter’s pleas, but all he wanted was to end me with his bare hands.
My eyes flickered in Alessia’s direction, and I watched her pick up a discarded pistol from the floor. She raised the barrel toward the ceiling and screamed, “I said, stop!” A bullet rang out instantly, catching Dante’s attention.
His next blow hung midair, and his eyes squinted in confusion. Moments later, he lowered his arm, got off me, and turned to face his daughter. She stood across from him, eyes burning with intensity as a scowl settled on her face. She held the gun like she wasn’t afraid to use it, and in that moment, that scared Daddy’s little girl was no more. This was a woman, a mother ready to defend her territory at any cost.
“What’re you doing?” Dante asked her, his hands trembling at his sides, rage and disappointment flickering in his gaze.
“I’m saving my fiancé’s life,” she replied, her tone unapologetic.
His brows rose immediately, fingers balling into fists on both hands. “Your fiancé?”
Her throat wobbled as she swallowed hard, bracing herself for this confrontation. “Yes.”
By now, my cousins had helped me back onto my feet, and we stood together, watching this scene unfold before our eyes. I could almost hear her heart pounding like a drum in her chest.
Dante turned back in my direction then faced her again. “How dare you?” he hissed, taking menacing steps toward her. “How dare you spit on your family name by lying with this dog?!” he thundered.
“He’s no dog!” she snapped, her voice rising above his. “He is the father of my unborn son!”
Dante paused in his tracks, eyes darting to her belly before settling on her face again.
For a moment, silence fell, and a thick blanket of tension hovered in the air. No one said a word. Nothing made a sound, and even the chandeliers seemed to hold their breaths.
“Last chance, Alessia,” Dante said, his voice low and gravelly. “Come home.”
“I am home,” she said, replying with almost a whisper. “Nik and this baby in my womb…they’re my home now.”
“You’re not thinking straight, Alessia. You must be under some kind of Russian voodoo,” Dante said, his expression darkening. “Take her. She’s coming home with us,” he ordered his men.
“Stay back!” She pulled the gun on them, fingers cocking the damn thing.
“Ooh. She’s feisty. I like that,” Daniel said quietly, his tone laced with admiration. “Now, I see why you chose her.”
“Dad, please,” she said, pleading with her eyes, both her hands holding up the gun in front of her. “I need you to respect my decision. I didn’t plan to get pregnant, nor did I plan on falling in love with him. But here we are.” She stared at him with misted eyes, her lips trembling from the fear and anxiety coursing through her veins.
“You have made your choice. Now, I’ll make mine.” His expression went blank, eyes narrowing with a glint of fury simmering underneath. “Because you’ve chosen the enemy over your own…you, Alessia, on this day, cease to be a Romano.”
Her breath hitched, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
“You are no daughter of mine,” he added, his voice cold and hollow, disappointment flickering in his eyes.
Without wasting a second longer, he turned and left, his men following up behind him.
Alessia broke down in tears, hands trembling as she dropped the gun. I rushed over to help her, pulling her to myself, my touch gentle but firm. My arms wrapped around her, offering warmth and comfort to her broken heart. “I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay,” I whispered, smoothing her slightly tousled hair backward.
She withdrew by a fraction, lifting her chin to look at me. I hated those tears, and without even realizing it, I reached out and helped wipe them with my thumbs.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered, extending a hand to try to nurse the injury on my face.
“I’ve had worse. I’ll live,” came my reply, my eyes boring into hers. “Why?” I asked her. “Why did you choose me?”
“Because you first chose me,” she replied, a faint grin tugging at the corners of her lips.
I felt my heart melt, and a flutter rose in my chest.
“I meant everything I said to my father, Nik,” she began, refusing to break eye contact. “Every word.” Her thumb brushed against my cheek, her skin soft and smooth. “I wasn’t sure at first. But now I am, and I can even feel it in my bones.” She paused, as if letting the words sink in for a moment before dropping the bombshell. “I love you, Nikita Tarasov.”
I pulled her closer, pressing her body against mine in a warm, passionate embrace. That was exactly the emotion that I’d been too afraid to name.
Love.
And for the first time in my life, I said those three little words, being true to my feelings.
“I love you, too, Alessia.”
Okay, five little words.
