Page 42 of Forced & Knocked-Up Bratva Bride

My cousin, Sergei Tarasov, who’d been silent the entire time, finally spoke, changing the subject. “In light of recent events….” He stared at me, his piercing gray eyes boring into mine. “I’ve received word that Dante Romano is working on clearing his name. My sources tell me that he’s making moves for a comeback.”

“We all knew he wasn’t going to stay hidden forever,” Viktor said, his gaze shifting across the rest of us.

My jaw clenched in anger, fingers balling into fists on my sides. The bastard should have just stayed in the shadows where he belonged. If he thought he could crawl his way back into power, he was a bigger fool than I had given him credit for.

Chapter 27 – Alessia

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 makeupwas 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.

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