I heaved a sigh, standing before the full-length mirror, the soft glow of the hanging chandelier casting a gentle warmth across my reflection. The dress Nik had chosen for me—an elegant, deep sapphire gown—flowed delicately over my curves, hugging my figure in all the right places. The classy gown cascaded gracefully over the swell of my seven-month belly as I stood balanced on a pair of black low-heeled pumps that enhanced my overall look.
I ran my manicured hands down the sides, smoothing the fabric with care, my touch tender and almost reverent. My belly, round and prominent, seemed to give the gown an ethereal charm, as though I carried not just life, but also quiet power. My eyes lingered on my reflection for a bit. In them was a quiet strength beneath my gaze—a mix of wonder, weariness, and quiet pride.
Nik had hired professional makeup artists and hairstylists to take care of my appearance. I had no idea what was going on, and when the maid, Olga, brought them into my room with a charming smile on her face, she claimed she was just as shocked as I was. The professionals did their jobs wonderfully well, and I almost couldn’t recognize the woman in the mirror.
My honey-blonde hair was swept into a neat, soft, romantic updo, with loose curls escaping to frame my face. At the crown, a few strands were curled and pinned delicately, giving me a timeless, graceful look that seemed to complement the elegance of the evening.
I’d told the make-up artist that I didn’t want something glamorous or loud—nothing too heavy enough to attract unwanted attention. So, she made it such that my makeup was subtle yet stunning—warm, earthy tones that blended seamlessly with my natural complexion.
My eyes were softly defined with shades of gold and taupe, making them sparkle in the light. My lips carried a muted rose tint, not too much but enough to draw attention without overpowering my look. One thing was certain: The woman looking right back at me in the mirror was an absolute beauty, a goddess radiating all around.
A small smile played on the corners of my lips as I stared at my reflection, my heartbeat steady in my chest. It was as though I’d been transformed into a whole new person—maybe even a bride. My hands smoothed out the faint wrinkles on my dress, a dress Nik had gotten me as a present just before the professionals stepped into my room.
Why?
What was he up to?
First, he bought me a classy and rather expensive gown, and then he had me made up, ready for God-knows-what.
What was he playing at this time?
He’d never shown any interest in how I looked or how I presented myself. I was of the opinion that he didn’t care about that aspect of my life, hence the reason for my shock. He was clearly taking me somewhere; I just wasn’t sure where, and the more I thought about it, the more nervous I became.
The professionals had left the room the moment they were done, leaving me to my thoughts and feelings. My pulse was starting to quicken, and so was my heart. Any moment from now, I’d have to meet him downstairs and present myself, the version he’d had those professionals turn me into.
I shut my eyes, drawing a deep, long breath, manicured fingers fidgeting at my sides. My heart skipped a beat when I heard the door open, and I turned toward the entrance almost immediately.
Olga stood there, holding on to the door handle. Her brows arched, disbelief coloring her eyes. She wouldn’t move, nor would she take her gaze off mine. Her mouth was slightly open in wonder, and her jaw dropped to mirror the shock in her expression.
“Okay, Olga, now you’re starting to make me feel uncomfortable,” I muttered, averting my gaze to the floor.
“Wow!” she exclaimed as she drew nearer to me. “Miss Alessia, you look like a goddess,” she remarked, her eyes shining with adoration. “Nikita will be so proud.” She reached out and held my hands.
I managed to raise my head. “You think so?”
Her lips curled into a smile as she gently squeezed my fingers. “I know so,” she said, holding my gaze.
I exhaled sharply, feeling encouraged by her words. “Where do you think he’s taking me?”
Olga shrugged her shoulders, her expression soft and polite. “I’m not sure.” She paused for a moment as though she was thinking. Then, with a sigh, she continued, “I’ve known Nik since he was a little boy. I know how he thinks, how he behaves, and how he treats women.”
I listened carefully, anticipating where she was going with this.
“Miss Alessia, I’ve never seen him look at any woman the way he looks at you,” she continued, retaining her smile. “Never has he bought a single present for any of them…yet here you are, dressed up in a gown he personally picked out for you.”
My heart melted at her words, and I didn’t realize until it was too late that I’d been smiling the whole time.
She leaned in. “Do you know what he asked me?”
I shook my head, eager to hear her response.
Her voice dropped to a low whisper when she said, “He asked me, ‘Olga, do you think this dress will look great on her? I don’t want anything ruining her beauty.’”
I chuckled, my eyes crinkling at the corners. “He said that?”
“He did.” She nodded and slowly extended a hand to my face, her palm resting on my cheek. “Miss Alessia, I know it doesn’t look like it right now, but believe me when I tell you, everything will fix itself in due time.” Her voice was slow and deliberate, each word carefully placed, like she was trying to anchor me with them.
“Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it, Olga,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, weighed down by the doubt creeping back into my heart.
“I understand.” Her lips curved into a smile, her voice laced with conviction. “But someday, you will look back at all of this and laugh. I promise you that.”
“You sound so confident,” I said, wishing I were half as optimistic as she was.
“I am,” came her reply. “Soon, you will understand why.” Her thumb brushed against my skin. She inhaled deeply and smiled. “You smell nice.”
“Thank you, Olga,” I whispered, beaming at her. “For everything.” My fingers gently squeezed against hers.
Olga had been like a mother to me since the first time we had a conversation in the kitchen the other day. She was one of the few reasons why I hadn’t lost my mind yet. The woman’s kind heart and jovial nature were a stark contrast to the darkness that surrounded this place. I still hadn’t figured out what she was doing here, and from what she said a while ago, she’d been working for the Tarasovs since Nik was a kid.
I had a lot to ask her, but now wasn’t the time. I’d get that opportunity later on, but for now, I had a mystery place to be with the father of my unborn son.
“Come,” Olga said, “it’s best not to keep him waiting.”
I heaved a sigh and stole one last look at my reflection before following her downstairs. As I descended the stairs, I gripped the rail tightly, careful not to trip on the hem of my dress. Under the soft glow of the chandelier, each step felt exaggerated in the silence. I could see him in the living room, his back against me, and the closer I drew, the more I forgot to breathe.
Adjusting my posture, I lifted my chin just a bit, pretending as though my heart wasn’t threatening to jump out of my chest. Resplendent in a black suit, Nik turned around to face me, his eyes squinting for a fleeting moment. Although his expression was blank—unreadable—his gaze swept across my figure as if drinking in the sight he beheld.
I halted before him, pursing my lips while bracing myself for his reaction—whatever that might be. He watched me in silence, my heart racing like a friggin’ galloping horse. The air was thick with the perfect blend of his cologne and my feminine perfume. This whole time, my eyes were on the floor, my cheeks flushing for no reason.
“Come,” he said softly. “We’re running late.”
I raised my head and saw him standing there, gesturing toward the door.
“The car’s waiting outside,” he added, meeting my eyes for the first time today.
My heart sank into my stomach, and a flutter rose in my chest as I discreetly swallowed. His gaze stirred up a familiar emotion inside me, the same one I was yet to name. We stared deeply into each other’s eyes, but neither said a single word, despite the tension brewing between us. His eyes, those charming blue eyes, slightly crinkled at the corners, his dark hair styled to perfection and simmering in the soft light.
The man was gorgeous, looking nothing like the brute that he was. His imposing height towered over me, his muscles bulging from underneath his blazer while exuding an air of sophistication and confidence. I was glued to his face, handsome and attractive, taking in even the slightest of details, including the gentle curve of his inviting lips.
The moment I got a grip of myself, I blinked a few times and broke eye contact. Quietly, I headed toward the door, and he followed up behind me like a bodyguard.
Once in the car, he turned the ignition, and the sleek SUV’s engine roared to life. He stole a quick glance at the front passenger seat, and I responded with a faint smile, pushing a loose strand behind my ear.
As the vehicle traveled down the serpentine driveway, I turned to him and asked, as politely as I could, “Where are we going?”
He looked at me and replied, his expression still blank, “The annual Tarasov family gathering.”
My brows arched in shock, my breath hitching in my throat. He couldn’t possibly be serious. Could he? I fixed my gaze on him while he drove, eyes across the windshield. Why would he lie about where we were going? It wasn’t like he was afraid of me or anything. Nik wasn’t the type to kid around, hence I’d have thought this was some sort of elaborate joke.
It wasn’t.
He was goddamn serious.
The annual Tarasov family gathering? For real?
Instantly, my heart began to race in my chest, my mind cooking up scenarios that may or may not happen. What happened to his precious fiancée? Why not take her instead, considering that his family hated mine and vice versa?
Shit. This was not good at all.
I’d be the odd one out, the enemy. And although my plan was to try as much as possible to stay hidden, that was virtually impossible now. I’d be a Romano amongst a lot of Tarasovs. There was no way I could be invisible, not with this baby bump that would for sure draw unwanted attention.
Dang it, I’m fucked.
***
The air was filled with the gentle hum of conversations and the occasional clinking of glasses. Soft classical music wafted through the air, performed by a live band at a corner. Impeccably dressed men and women of the Tarasov family mingled with one another, their light laughs filling the atmosphere.
As we walked amongst them, I felt the shift in the air and the lingering gazes that followed. Eyes tracked us from every corner of the room, hushed murmurs rising from our spectators. I could see the shock in their eyes, the hatred, and, of course, the condemnation. They made it clear with their intimidating gazes that I was not welcome here, but none of them had the courage to say anything. How could they when I had Nik by my side?
To my surprise, he reached out discreetly and slipped his fingers between mine, locking them in place. The moment he did that, I felt like I was no longer alone, like he had my back. I heaved a sigh and raised my chin, my confidence boosted by a fraction.
We hadn’t gone deep into the room when I heard it—a familiar voice calling out to me. “Alessia?”
I paused in my tracks, and Nik did, too. We looked at each other, surprised that someone in the Tarasov family had called out to me like they were familiar with me.
My brows arched in disbelief the moment I turned around and saw my caller. “Scarlett?” A scoff left my lips.
“Oh, my God, it is you!” She laughed, hurrying up to meet me. Her eyes darted to my belly, and her smile widened. “And you’re in a family way.” Scarlett chuckled and embraced me.
“Scarlett, what a pleasant surprise,” I declared, wrapping my arms around her, relieved to have run into her.
The last time I saw her, she was about to get married to Liam Callahan, a charming prince who was perfect for her. But wait a minute, what was she doing at a Tarasov family gathering, then?
Scarlett let go of me and faced my plus one. “Hey, Nik,” she greeted him with a warm, knowing smile.
“Scarlett.” He gave a courteous nod as he hugged her respectfully.
“You two know each other?” I asked, my gaze shifting across the two of them.
Scarlett laughed. “Of course. He’s my husband’s cousin,” she replied.
My eyes widened in shock and bewilderment, my head tilting to the side. “Your husband’s cousin?” I repeated, seeking clarity.
“Yes. Daniel Tarasov,” she replied, but her response still left me in the dark.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Nik said, his eyes meeting mine for a second before he dematerialized.
I turned to face Scarlett, my curiosity piqued. “Okay, start talking,” I demanded an explanation.
A waiter dressed halted beside us, offering a tray of champagne and canapés.
“No, thank you,” I said, waving a hand in dismissal.
“You sure?” Scarlett asked me, reaching for a glass on the tray. “The canapés are really good.” She gestured toward the food.
“I’m okay,” I replied, eyes fixed on her.
As the waiter moved along, she took a sip from her glass, savoring the flavor dancing on her tongue.
I leaned in, hushing my voice. “Scarlett, how are you married to Daniel Tarasov? I thought Liam Callahan was supposed to be your husband?” My eyes darted around to be sure no one was listening in on our conversation.
“He was,” she said, her tone casual and unbothered.
“Then, what happened?” I asked, curiosity flickering in my eyes.
“Let’s just say I dodged a bullet,” she replied, sipping her drink again.
I pulled my head back, slightly scratching my eyebrows. “Okay, I’m confused.”
She heaved a sigh. “A lot has happened since the last time we met.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” I said, watching her closely.
“A lot has changed on your side, too,” she said, her eyes dropping to my stomach, with a beautiful smile playing on her lips. Scarlett paused for a second, then began. “I thought Liam was the one for me; I truly believed so. But I guess life had a different plan for me—a better one.”
“Daniel Tarasov is a better plan?” I asked, my tone laced with a hint of disdain. “No offense,” I added almost immediately.
Scarlett laughed lightly. “None taken.”
I studied her for a while, and in all sincerity, she looked happy. I judged her husband, condemned him, because of his last name, whereas my old friend was happily married to him.
She drew closer and held my hand. “They’re not all monsters, you know?”
I shot my head up, confusion setting in as I tried to process what the hell was going on here.
“The Tarasov men have a twisted way of doing things. They have an even more twisted way of getting a woman—a wife,” she continued, her eyes never leaving mine. “It’s not a conventional method, but it works for them and the women they take, too.”
I squinted, cocking my head to the side. “Did…did he take you against your will…your husband?”
“Yep.” She nodded, her smile widening. “Right there on the altar where the priest was supposed to join Liam and me in holy matrimony.”
I withdrew my hands from hers, placing a palm on my forehead. “I…I don’t understand. How are you cool with this? How did you end up…happy?”
She closed the distance between us and reclaimed my hands. “Time.”
I raised my brows. “Time?”
She nodded. “I realized that as cruel and ruthless as my husband was, he loved me, and I learned to love him too.” She let the words sink in for a moment, her gaze dropping to my belly. “Nik is the father, isn’t he?”
I swallowed hard, then nodded.
Her lips curled into a warm smile, fingers squeezing against mine. “I know you’re afraid, and you might even hate him. I know I did; I hated my husband at first.” A light chuckle escaped her lips. “But these men…they don’t joke with their family, Alessia. And one of the things I’ve noticed by hanging around them is that when a child is involved, it changes the entire narrative of their story.” She beamed at me, her hand resting on my belly.
For some reason, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. Her words matched those of Olga’s, and now, I was starting to see why the maid was so confident in her claims. Scarlett’s happiness melted my heart, especially because she found it with a Tarasov, not the man she thought she’d end up with. How ironic.
But was that going to be the case for me? Did Nik really have my happiness at heart?
Just then, the sudden clicking of a spoon against a glass turned heads toward the center of the room. “Everyone, can I have your attention, please?” Nik began, standing tall, absorbing the gazes lingering on him.
My heart stuttered as all conversation died. A hush swept over the gathering like a collective intake of breath.
“I have an important announcement to make,” he said, shifting his gaze in my direction for just a second before looking away. “I’ve been told that I’m getting old and that it’s high I found a wife.”
The crowd broke into a collective chuckle, soft and hushed.
“Well, I’m here to tell you all that I have found my missing rib,” he continued, his voice low and even.
My breath ceased, and I lowered my head in shame, unable to bear the thought that he brought me here only to humiliate me. If he knew he was going to announce Helen as his wife, why bother bringing me out here?
While I was busy wallowing in defeat, I heard it. Loud. Clear. Unmistakably.
“Alessia Romano will be my wife,” he declared.
What?! My eyes widened, and I raised my head just in time to meet his gaze.
“She’s carrying my child—my son,” he added, looking right at me with an expression so soft that it charged my tear glands.
Silence fell.
A thick, stunned silence that made even the chandeliers hold their breaths.
I stood there, rooted in place, blinking once. Twice. Maybe this was a joke—a rather expensive one, at that. But the more I looked into those blue eyes of his, the more I realized just how real this was.
He chose me.
Nik chose me.
Olga was right all along, as was Scarlett.
My heart raced in my slowly heaving chest, and my eyes misted as I stared at him. It was as though the world around us was starting to fade into the background, leaving just the two of us.
I could hear the murmurs amongst the crowd, could hear their disapproval. But none of that mattered. Nik chose me, and that meant that I got to raise my child as his wife.
Still stunned, I could only stare at him—eyes wide, lips parted, heart thudding in disbelief. One word echoed through my mind, over and over. What?
A wind of relief blew across my face, and with each passing second, my heartbeat steadied. In that moment, I saw it, something I’d never seen before—Nik’s genuine smile, directed toward me.
