Page 43 of Secret Bratva Twins

“Do I?” I ask, my voice tight.

Leo tilts his head, his gaze thoughtful. “You look pretty, Mommy.”

I swallow hard, forcing a small smile as I kneel to be closer to them. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

A knock at the door startles us, and Roman’s voice carries through. “Is it done?”

The maid glances at me, waiting for permission.

“Yes,” I say, standing carefully and smoothing the skirt. “It fits.”

Roman steps inside, his sharp eyes scanning the room before landing on me. He doesn’t comment on the dress, but there’s a flicker of satisfaction in his expression.

“Good,” he says simply. “Mr. Sharov will want to see it. You’re expected downstairs in an hour.”

Alyssa bounces on the bed again, oblivious to the tension thickening in the air. “You’re gonna get married, Mommy!”

I glance at Leo, who clings tighter to his bear, and then at Roman, whose presence feels suffocating despite his silence.

“I’ll be there,” I say, my voice steady despite the storm building inside me.

Roman nods and steps back out, the door closing behind him.

I kneel again, taking Alyssa’s hands in mine. “You two stay here, okay? Play with your toys. I’ll be back soon.”

Her face falls, but she nods. “Okay, Mommy.”

Leo just stares at me, his small face pinched with worry.

I force another smile, brushing his hair back. “Be good for me, baby.”

As I stand, my heart feels heavier with every step. Whatever comes next, I’ll have to face it. For now, I’ll hold on to the fact that they’re safe, even in this house that feels more like a prison.

Chapter Seventeen - Serge

The room is quiet except for the soft rustle of fabric and the murmur of voices. A low hum of anticipation buzzes in the air, but it’s muted—nothing over the top. I wanted this wedding to be small, intimate. Close family, trusted friends, no unnecessary eyes to witness what is ultimately a transaction disguised as a ceremony.

I stand at the altar, my hands clasped loosely in front of me, my expression composed. My tuxedo feels stiff, unfamiliar, as if it doesn’t belong on my body. I’m used to control, to power, to commanding attention when I enter a room. Standing here feels… different. Exposed, almost.

I keep my face impassive.

The children’s laughter draws my gaze to the side. Alyssa and Leo are seated with Katya, my mother. She looks radiant, happier than I’ve seen her in years. She leans in close to Alyssa, who’s whispering something in her ear, and the two of them burst into giggles. Leo sits quietly beside them, his small hand wrapped around hers, his bear tucked under his other arm. He watches everything with wide, curious eyes, taking it all in.

Katya adores them already. It didn’t take long. She’s doted on her other grandchildren for years, and now, with Alyssa and Leo in her life, it’s like she’s been given a second wind. It’s hard not to feel some satisfaction watching her beam with pride, her joy so genuine it almost softens the tension in my chest.

Almost.

I adjust my cuff links, forcing myself to focus. This is a formality, I remind myself. A necessity. The ceremony, the vows—it’s all for appearances. Chiara knows that as well as I do.

When the music begins, my breath hitches before I catch myself. I glance toward the entrance, and there she is.

Chiara.

She’s breathtaking.

The dress fits her perfectly, every detail accentuating her curves without being overly elaborate. Her dark hair falls in soft waves, framing her face, and even from this distance, I can see the faint tension in her jaw, the way she holds her chin just a little higher as if daring anyone to pity her.

Her steps are slow, measured, her hand resting lightly on Roman’s arm as he escorts her down the aisle. She’s not smiling, but she isn’t trembling either. She looks like she’s walking to her execution and refusing to give her captors the satisfaction of fear.

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