Page 162 of Bratva Knight

I cried harder.

“Okay, stop. You’re making her more upset.” Nikolai barged in between us and Aleksandr embraced him in a hug as well from behind.

The subject change had done exactly what I intended. It had distracted Aleksandr from his displeasure about being in the fashion show. We’d planned to tell him soon anyway. Why not then?

“Tatiana?” I turned to look at one of my professors, wiping the tears from my face. He was a short, thin bald man with a moustache and a Texas accent. “You’re next.”

I nodded.

Okay, here we go.

NIKOLAI VOLKOV

I'm so nervous.

I took a deep breath, trying to get a hold on my frazzled nerves. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. Feel it hammering in my chest. My lips were dry, my palms soaked with sweat.

Why am I so nervous?I shouldn't be. I had everything planned, right down to the most microscopic detail. I hadsixcontingency plans in place in case something went wrong. I was the most prepared any person in my position could be, and yet, I was still a complete and total nervous wreck.

I ran my hands down the beautiful, pristine suit Tatiana made and straightened my tie, watching the seconds tick by on the clock mounted on the living room wall of our apartment.

Any second now. You can do this, Nikolai. You can do this,

The fashion show tonight for Tatiana's final grade had gone off without a hitch. I feared Aleksandr would pull out at the last second and ruin the entire thing, but Tatiana's idea to reveal the name we'd chosen for our son had given him the push he needed to go through with it without anymore fuss.

To be honest, I expected some sort of push-back from him on the subject anyway, so I wasn't all that surprised when he came to me before the show and told me he wasn't going to walk. The whole thing was completely out of his comfort zone. When you think of the words, 'fashion show' or 'cat walk', my grumpy older brother wasn't exactly the first thing that came to mind.

Or the second.

Or the tenth.

It had been a mission and a half getting him to evenagreeto it, let alone show up and put on the suit.

"No. Fucking. Way."

"I'm sorry, I must have given you the impression you had a choice in this. Let me rephrase. Youwillmarch your ass down that runway and help Tatiana ace her class, or I'm going to pound your face into the fucking ground. We clear?"

He arched a brow. "Sounding mighty confident there, little brother. That's not something you've managed to accomplish yet."

"Never had the proper motivation before. Now, I do." I glared down at him, something that was easy to do for the first time in my life since he was sitting behind his desk. "I'm serious, Aleksandr. I have an incredibly stressed out, pregnant woman at home and I swear to God if you cause her more stress, I'll make you regret it."

He scoffed. "You don't scare me, Nikolai."

I folded my arms across my chest and smirked. "Imight not, but what about your wife?"

He stiffened, narrowing his eyes.

There was a running joke in the family now that if you wanted to get Aleksandr to do something, all you had to do was threaten to go to his wife. She had quite the temper, and was straddling that 'batshit crazy' line. That wasn't the only reason though. Yeah, part of it I think was because Aleksandr was a little scared about what that woman would do it she was angry, but the main part, thebiggestpart, was that he'd do whatever he could to make her happy.

Like I would for Tatiana.

Aleksandr groaned, running a hand down his face. "What part of me screams 'fashion runway show'? Honestly? Can you picturemewalking on some platform modelling some ridiculous outfit with a bunch of people staring at me?"

Yes, I could. And the image was fucking laughable. But I couldn't tellhimthat, so I just said, "please, Aleksandr. I need your help. Do this for me."

He groaned again and thumped his head face down onto his desk. "Fine," he grumbled.

A crackle burst through my ear from my ear piece.

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