Page 49 of The Russian Pakhan's Forced Bride
The others chuckle, and he follows suit after I take my seat.
It shouldn’t be much of a surprise to see him looking comfortable and relaxed around his siblings, but it still catches me off guard.
There’s a gentleness behind his eyes that is often restrained, especially when I’m doing the opposite of beingcooperative. But at this moment, while his brothers easily jump into their dominating conversations, he doesn’t hold back.
When the others speak, he looks at them fondly, as if he’s truly glad to be here…like he has known the fear of potentially losing them and this peace he clearly cherishes.
As if he’s well aware that this is exactly what he fights for.
Eventually, our food arrives, and Ivan sighs once the servers leave again, picking at the food on his plate. “Whose bright idea was it to come here again?”
“Mine,” Elena says simply, looking more than in her element while she sips from a green smoothie.
“Why does it look like they put lawn clippings on my plate?”
She scoffs. “It’s good for you…you don’t need to consume your weight in red meat every day.”
Ivan, still displeased, at least attempts to try it despite his grimace. “I’m not a rabbit.”
Elena rolls her eyes while the others garner some amusement from Ivan’s quiet complaining, and then she shifts her attention to me. “If I ever have the chance to reincarnate one day, don’t let me be born into a family with this much testosterone again.”
Despite myself, a small smile pulls at my lips, able to see how she’d find herself being overwhelmed by them, or, at the very least, caught in a unique experience.
“Yet you love us anyway,” Mikhail hums, throwing her a teasing glance.
“That remains to be seen.”
The others get a bit rowdier at her comeback, both laughing and egging her on further.
“So cold, and to think we granted you the great power of choosing the restaurant today,” Sergey chimes in, also seemingly less than impressed with the food in front of him.
Ivan still grumbles to himself, having a hard time enjoying his meal. “We’re revoking that privilege.”
“You are not…and stop complaining,” Elena mumbles, glaring at him with minimal heat behind it. “You’re all about fitness and staying in shape, so you should thank me for being considerate.”
“She isn’t wrong…you’re all too indulgent,” Roman adds, letting a small grin pull at his lips while he eats without causing any fuss.
Elena smiles triumphantly at that, quietly throwing it back at her other brothers. “See? Roman always gets it.”
“Kiss-ass,” Sergey says under his breath, concealing it poorly with an exaggerated cough.
While they chuckle at her expense, Roman reaches over and lightly smacks him over the back of the head—it’s more so a harmless warning than anything too intense.
“You should be kissing her ass for putting up with you.”
At this, they all laugh harder, and Elena seems to take great joy in being stood up for.
Despite the slight scolding, more of that care comes out in the way Roman defends his younger sister, and despite myself, I’ve seen glimpses of it before.
I’ve seen it in the way he drapes a blanket over me if I start to drift on the couch…in the way he glances at me throughout dinner, as if quietly asking if the meal is to my liking…in the light but almost protective way he braces a hand against my lower back when we go anywhere.
That gentle side has been coming out more often than before, regardless of not wanting to admit it.
It seems he has been changing, even if only slightly.
Annoyingly, it only makes everything else harder. It makes my desire to ruin his life harder to follow through with.
With a small smile, Elena looks at me again. “Do you have any siblings, Victoria?”
