Page 19 of Accidental Bratva Daddy

I nearly choke on my croissant. "What? Why?"

"To tell them about our marriage, of course," Luka replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "It's the only way to make our story believable."

"But—" I begin, only to be cut off by Luka's raised hand.

"I've already sent photos of the ceremony to the press," he continues, his tone leaving no room for argument. "A fashion journalist will be publishing them within the next few hours. It's best if your family hears the news from you first."

I feel the blood drain from my face. "You did what?" I hiss, my earlier appreciation for his thoughtfulness evaporating instantly.

Luka's expression remains impassive. "It's necessary, Natalia. We need to control the narrative before someone else jumps in. Now, call your family."

For a moment, I consider refusing. But the steely glint in Luka's eyes tells me it isn't a request. With a frustrated sigh, I reach for my phone.

My finger hovers over Alina's contact for a long moment before I finally press 'call.' The phone rings once, twice, before my sister's voice fills the line.

"Natalia?" Alina's tone is a mixture of relief and confusion. "Oh my God, where have you been? We've been worried sick!"

My heart clenches at the concern in my sister's voice. "I'm okay, Alina. I'm sorry I haven't called. Things have been... complicated."

"Complicated?" Alina echoes. "Natalia, we reported you as a missing person! We thought—we thought the mob had taken you, or worse."

Guilt washes over me in waves. I glance at Luka, who's watching me intently, his expression unreadable.

"I'm so sorry," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "I never meant to worry you. I just... something happened. Something big."

There's a pause on the other end of the line. "What do you mean, 'something big'?"

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "I got married."

The silence that follows is deafening. I can practically hear the gears turning in my sister's head.

"You... what?" Alina finally manages, her voice barely above a whisper. “I must be mishearing.”

"I got married," I repeat, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. "To Luka—the man I met at my after-party. He... he rescued me, Alina. And we just... we fell in love. It happened so fast, but it felt right. We decided to elope."

The lie tastes bitter, but I force myself to continue. I can feel Luka's eyes on me, silently urging me on.

"Natalia, this is insane," Alina says, her voice rising with each word. "Dad was just murdered, and you're off getting married to some man you barely know? What about your brand? You swore you wouldn't get married until Orlova Couture was a household name!"

I wince at the mention of our father. "I know, I know. But things are different with Luka. He's... he's unlike anyone I've ever met."

At that, Luka's lips curl into a self-satisfied smirk. I shoot him a glare, mouthing 'shut up' even though he hasn't said a word.

"I don't understand," Alina says, her voice small and confused. "This isn't like you, Natalia. Are you sure you're okay? Are you safe?"

The concern in my sister's voice makes my eyes prick with tears. "I'm fine, Alina. I promise. I know it's a lot to take in, but I'm happy. Really."

There's a long pause, filled only by the sound of Alina's shaky breathing. "Mom needs to hear this," she says finally. "Can you hold on while I get her?"

"Of course," I say, my stomach churning with anxiety. “I wanted to talk to her anyway.”

As I wait for my mother to come to the phone, I look to Luka. His expression has softened slightly, a hint of concern creasing his brow. Without a word, he reaches across the table, taking my free hand in his. The gesture is unexpectedly comforting.

"Natalia?" My mother's voice, usually so composed, trembles with emotion. "My darling, is it really you?"

"Yes, Mama," I say, fighting back tears. "It's me. I'm okay."

"Where have you been? We've been so worried. After your father—" Her voice breaks, unable to finish the sentence.

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