Page 15 of Accidental Bratva Daddy

Let the real performance begin.

8

Natalia

The elevator chimes softly as we reach the top floor of the boutique hotel in the heart of Moscow. Luka's hand rests on the small of my back, a gesture that should be comforting but instead sends shivers up my spine. I'm hyper-aware of his presence, the heat of his body so close to mine, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the lingering fragrance of wedding flowers.

As the doors slide open, revealing a plush hallway decorated in shades of cream and gold, reality comes crashing down on me once again. This is my honeymoon. With a man I'm supposed to hate. A man who, despite everything, still makes my heart race with a single touch.

I’ve sacrificed the rest of my life for him. All the men who I could’ve met, fallen in love with, and lived my happily ever after with have been shut out. They’ll go on to find other women, better ones who aren’t mixed up with organized crime, and I’ll be left with Luka.

Now, I must wake up in the morning and hear his grumbling voice. The sun won’t shine without his black shadow cascading over me, asking about how my day was. And that’s only if he pretends to care.

Luka guides me down the hall, his stride confident and purposeful. I feel like a deer caught in headlights, my feet moving of their own accord. We stop in front of a set of ornate double doors, and Luka produces a key card with a flourish.

"Ready to see our love nest, Mrs. Volkova?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I scowl at him, hating how easily he seems to be taking this whole charade. "Just open the door, Luka."

He chuckles, the sound low and rich, sending an involuntary shiver through me. The door swings open, revealing a suite that takes my breath away despite my best efforts to remain unimpressed.

The room is massive, easily twice the size of my old apartment. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a stunning view of the Moscow skyline, the city lights twinkling like stars against the darkening sky. A massive king-sized bed dominates one side of the room, piled high with pillows and draped in luxurious linens.

But what catches my eye is the distinct lack of a second sleeping area.

"You can't be serious," I say, whirling to face Luka. "Where's your room?"

Luka raises an eyebrow, that infuriating smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "This is my room, darling. Our room, to be precise."

I feel the heat rising to my cheeks, a mixture of anger and something else I don't want to examine too closely. "You expect us to share? After everything that's happened? How do I know you’re not going to kill me in my sleep?"

Luka shrugs, stepping further into the room and loosening his bow tie. The casual movement draws my attention to the strong column of his throat, and I have to force myself to look away.

"We need to make this as believable as possible," he says, his tone maddeningly reasonable. "What kind of newlyweds would we be if we slept in separate rooms?"

I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off with a wave of his hand. "Relax, Natalia. I'll take the couch if it means my blushing bride can sleep in comfort."

The teasing lilt in his voice when he says "blushing bride" makes me want to scream. Instead, I settle for an eye roll that would make any teenager proud. "How chivalrous of you," I mutter, stomping further into the room.

I head straight for the windows, needing to put some distance between us. The view really is spectacular, the lights of the city stretching out as far as the eye can see. For a moment, I let myself get lost in it, trying to forget the surreal situation I've found myself in.

Behind me, I hear Luka moving about the room, the soft rustle of fabric as he removes his jacket. I catch a glimpse of his reflection in the window—the broad expanse of his shoulders, the way his shirt clings to his muscular frame. My traitorous body responds, a flicker of heat igniting low in my belly.

I close my eyes, trying to regain control. This is ridiculous. I shouldn't be attracted to him. He's dangerous, a killer, theman responsible for turning my life upside down. But my body doesn't seem to care about those facts, responding to his proximity like a flower turning towards the sun.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Luka's voice, closer now, startles me out of my reverie. I turn to find him watching me, his expression unreadable. He's rolled up his sleeves, exposing strong forearms dusted with dark hair. It's an oddly intimate sight, and I have to swallow hard before I can speak.

"I was just thinking about how surreal this all is," I say, gesturing vaguely at the opulent room. "A week ago, I was just a fashion designer with a normal life. And now..."

"Now you're married to the most dangerous man in Moscow?" Luka supplies, a hint of dark humor in his voice.

I snort, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. "Something like that, yes."

Luka takes a step closer, and I instinctively back up, my legs hitting the window seat behind me. He pauses, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Natalia," he says softly. "I thought I'd made that clear by now."

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