Page 52 of Forced & Knocked-Up Bratva Bride

Once inside, I stood at the entrance, scanning the space with slightly raised eyebrows. Sunlight filtered in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, catching on the pale wood floors and white shelves that lined the walls.

The space was empty, waiting, but beautiful.

This was the kind of place you only saw in magazines. I moved here and there, turning in a slow circle, taking it all in. Mirrors framed in gold, a small counter near the back, and a changing area with velvet curtains were still wrapped in plastic. Deep down in my heart, I knew what this place looked like, but I needed him to explain. I was afraid to hope, to jump to conclusions, even though I already had a clue what was actually going on.

I looked at him, breathless, my pulse spiking to mirror the anticipation on my face. “Nik, what is this place?”

He cleared his throat, his eyes darting across the opulent interior as he stepped forward, extending his hand. This suspense was killing me, and the longer he was quiet, the faster my heart beat.

Finally, he spoke, handing me a bunch of jingling keys. “It’s yours.”

My eyes widened, brows rising reflectively. “M…mine…? I stuttered, my voice trailing off in shock.

“Yours,” he said. “For your boutique.”

I felt my tear glands charging up, my nose flaring with emotions.

Nik brushed his hand over my shoulder, his smile charming and sweet. “You’ve always talked about owning one. Now, you do.” He paused for a moment, letting me bask in this big reveal before continuing, “You can start here—build a name for yourself while still studying nursing.”

My heart was swelling with joy, pure and undiluted.

“This….” He gestured to the space, lit up by a gorgeous chandelier that must have cost a fortune. “This is yours…all of it.”

Tears came fast, blurring my vision as my hand flew to my chest; I was so touched by his thoughtfulness. An abrupt chuckle broke through my lips. “Nikita…you…you didn’t have to.” My voice cracked under the weight of the emotions flooding my heart.

Slowly, I stepped forward and slipped into his arms.

“I wanted to,” he said softly. “You deserve all of this and more.”

I withdrew from him and peered at the interior again, this time with fresh eyes. I saw shelves filled with curated pieces and imagined soft music playing from speakers, while women from all walks of life browsed the racks. I turned to the entrance and pictured the bell over the door chiming as someone walked in.

I saw life.

My future.

I saw it all within a fraction of a second. It flashed before my eyes, and I loved the glimpse that I caught of it.

I stared into his face, my heartbeat steadying by the second, anxiety and shock replaced by a sense of calm. “Thank you,” I murmured, my tone dripping with gratitude. “I didn’t see this coming. This is the best gift I’ve ever received.” I went silent for a moment. “But it’s more than just a gift; it’s something that I’ll cherish for as long as I live.”

“This is a new beginning for us, Alessia,” he replied with the same tone, his eyes locking with mine. “And I’m ready to start over with you, to turn to the next page of our story and see what’s in store for us.”

Indeed, it was a new beginning—the beginning of a life I was going to cherish and live to the fullest. Two of my biggest dreams were now in the process of becoming a reality, all thanks to my husband. This was not how I expected my life to turn out at twenty-two, but I couldn’t have planned this better.

All the pain, heartaches, and torment that I had to endure led me to this very moment—the moment I felt the most loved and adored. Things would have been better if Dad hadn’t chosen his pride over his daughter’s happiness. Nevertheless, I was where I was supposed to be and with whom I was supposed to be.

“I love you, Nikita Tarasov,” I declared, my voice low and genuine.

“And I love you…Alessia Tarasov,” he replied, his voice smooth and tender. “Owner of my heart and the brand, ‘Alessia & Co.’” His lips twisted into a proud grin.

A and O—those were the letters I saw outside the building; the first and the last letters of the brand name.

“Alessia and Co.” My smile broadened. “It has a nice ring to it.” I laughed, butterflies flying in my belly.

I had never felt more complete. I had my son, my husband, and now, a future that I could claim as my own. I understood now why Scarlett was so happy and so full of life the first time I saw her after her wedding. She’d said that the Tarasov brothers weren’t as terrible as I thought they were and that they didn’t joke with their own. There was no lie in that.

She spoke the absolute truth, a truth just a few were privileged to know.

I loved my husband more than words could express, and I was also proud to be a Tarasov. I was proud to be known as Mrs. Alessia Tarasov.

*****

THE END

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