Page 34 of The Russian's Kidnapped Bride
“Do you speak any Russian, Lily?”
I blink out of my stupor and glance over at Elena to find her gentle gaze already on me. She’s the youngest, if I remember correctly.
Swallowing hard, I shake my head and try to ignore everyone else’s curiosity while they listen. “No, not at all.”
She smiles a little. “That’s fine, I’m not as fluent as I should be. I favored English growing up here. Besides, most guys here only speak it when they’re drunk or trying to be impressive.”
Victoria, Roman’s wife, hums her amusement and adds, “Or when they want to talk around us.”
“Are you Russian too?” I ask, letting my curiosity get the better of me.
She nods. “My biological parents were from Russia, but I was born in the area. That’s something I learned recently.”
I can tell there’s more to the story, but I don’t press. Instead, I nod in return.
“That being said, I don’t speak a word of it either,” Victoria says with a warm smile while she rocks the baby before Roman returns and offers to take the little one off her hands.
“And yet you’ve managed just fine,” Roman adds, pressing a gentle kiss to Victoria’s temple before taking over, rocking the little one off to the side.
The pleasant expression he wears while talking to the baby is a dramatic contrast to the intimidating man he is, and it feels like an odd sight.
Almost conspiratorially, Elena leans closer to me and grins. “Regardless of how tough they seem, don’t let them intimidate you.”
Blinking back at her, I struggle to find the right words at first. Of all things, I wasn’t expecting to find kindness at that table. Not with Mikhail’s family.
“That’s easier said than done. Everyone’s so…”
“Terrifying?” Victoria fills in for me.
“Powerful,” I say, since it feels like a safer choice.
“It’s okay to be wary around them…I was, too. All of this can be a lot, but you’re not weak for feeling that way. Not at all,” she continues, keeping her tone light and understanding.
“My brothers can be scary, but beneath it all, they’re secretly a bunch of softies. Don’t let them fool you,” Elena says, leaning her chin on her palm.
For the first time all evening, something inside me relaxes ever so slightly. The coiled-up tension doesn’t leave entirely, but it shifts into something more bearable.
Victoria and Elena are less like the guys and more similar to me in some ways. Even the latter seems more like an observer than a participant in everything her family does.
And yet, they’re both still standing. Still smiling, even.
The rest of dinner passes in a blur, and while talking to the girls has made me slightly less rigid, I feel relieved once we say our goodbyes.
Mikhail doesn’t say much, but his hand stays on me while we leave the restaurant. His touch is steady and possessive, and I don’t know how I feel about that.
Somehow, I breathe a little easier.
To my surprise, I’m looking forward to getting back to the penthouse if it means being able to decompress.
The car ride back is quiet, with neither of us saying a word. Mikhail drives while I stare out the window, watching as the buildings pass.
Then he misses a turn, and when I glance over at him, he looks unfazed. I furrow my brows but don’t point it out at first. Instead, I watch as the route becomes unfamiliar.
My heart picks up once the city lights start to fade, and the busy nightlife stays behind us.
Eventually, we reach a chain-link fence with guards posted out front, and at the recognition of Mikhail’s car, the gate rolls open.
Finally, I glance over at him, unable to avoid the sinking feeling in my stomach.
