Page 112 of Forced plus-size Bride of the Bratva
I nod slowly, dazed. “I’m pregnant.”
Adrian exhales, and then—he drops to his knees.
“Adrian….”
His hands wrap around my waist, his head bowing low until his forehead rests gently against my belly. The air in my lungs freezes. His arms hold me so tightly, so reverently, like he’s trying to memorize every part of me all over again.
“Thank you,” he breathes, voice rough and low. “For giving me the life I never thought I’d deserve.”
Tears sting my eyes. I run my fingers through his dark hair, threading gently, slowly. “Adrian….” I sink to the floor with him, kneeling until we’re eye to eye.
I cup his face, and he lets me. “You do deserve this,” I whisper. “You deserve every good thing. Every beautiful thing. And you already are everything to me.”
His eyes are glassy when they meet mine, and something in him cracks open—something raw and honest and stripped of all the armor he always wears. He nods once, wordless.
We hug again. Just hold each other like the world has gone quiet.
Just us.
And the promise of something more.
Eventually, we stand. He kisses my forehead, then my lips, then the hand that still holds the pregnancy test.
“You ready to go back to the party?” I ask softly as he brushes my hair behind my ear.
He shakes his head and clings to me. “Can’t we stay in all night?”
“Adrian!” I laugh and take his hand. “Come on, this is your party.”
“Fine.”
We walk out together, hand in hand—returning to the party, but everything has changed.
Because now we are no longer just husband and wife. We’re a family.
***
Adrian doesn’t leave my side for the rest of the night.
It’s almost ridiculous, the way he holds my hand like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go. Even when someone calls him over to talk about security or whatever Bratva business is always buzzing in the background, he doesn’t release me. He just shifts his weight, pulls me a little closer, and keeps his fingers curled protectively around mine.
People begin to leave. One by one, the fancy dresses and velvet jackets and glasses of champagne drift out of the estate. Someone congratulates us on our “announcement,” and another toasts to new beginnings. I can barely hear any of them. I onlyfeel Adrian’s thumb brushing the inside of my wrist, slow and steady, like he’s grounding us both.
Zoe gives me a wink. Violet mouths something wildly inappropriate about “Bratva monsters.” I laugh, covering my mouth. Adrian just pulls me tighter against his side like he knows exactly what they’re saying and doesn’t care.
As the last few guests head for the door, Adrian leans close and presses a soft kiss to my temple. “Time to disappear?” he murmurs.
I nod.
We slip away quietly, unnoticed except by those who know us best. His arm stays around my waist the whole walk to our room, his presence so solid and reassuring I could cry again.
And once the door closes behind us, he consumes me, kissing and gently whispering sweet nothings to me as he undresses me. We make love, and it’s softer and more sensual than anything we’ve ever had.
After sex, we lay in bed, tangled in each other’s arms, the sheets a mess around us, soft laughter bouncing off the walls. Adrian’s chest rumbles under my cheek as I trail my fingers lazily over the scars on his skin. He’s telling me some ridiculous story from his teenage years—something involving a stolen car, Lukin’s fury, and Kaz playing lookout while eating a meat pie.
I laugh so hard my stomach aches.
It’s peaceful here. Warm. Safe. Everything I never thought I could have.
