Page 33 of The Bratva's Knocked-Up Bride

A thrill moved through me at the idea, but it was soon followed by a confusing flash of dread.

Part of me wanted to decline to keep some distance between myself and Damien, but at the same time, there was always something fun about those events. And there was no denying how tempting it was to know Damien would likely be there.

That should’ve been cause for me to keep away, but before I could stop myself, I was already smiling.

“Sure, I can make myself free for the evening.”

Immediately, Gemma let go of a sigh of relief and reached for my arm. “Ugh, thank you. You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

I hummed my amusement at her reaction. “It’s no problem. I wouldn’t want to miss any possible antics anyway.”

She grinned. “I’m glad we’re on the same page. It’s so much more fun when I have someone else there to gossip with. Anyway, we’ll be by at around seven to pick you up.”

Nodding my agreement and understanding, I officially locked myself into the plan, and the two of us went on with our day as usual.

On the way back to my office, I found myself looking forward to the outing, but at the same time, my stomach clenched at the thought of Damien being there and having to see him outside of our usual setting.

I already knew it would be beyond tempting, especially if he were to dress up for the occasion like they normally did, and I would be setting myself up for failure right from the jump.

Something in me was screaming to just leave him alone and avoid him, while the other wanted to see where the night might take us. Either way, I was feeling both excited and resigned about the idea.

Once I reached my floor, I found myself instinctively looking for Damien, but I couldn’t manage to find him before retreating to my office. It was a slight relief, since the thought of being around him later that night was making me feel a bit sheepish.

Still, that part of me hoped to at least get a glimpse of him.

The work day continued like usual, with nothing of note standing out, and all the while I could only think about the event later that night. I wondered what I would wear, what the event would be like, and if I’d find it within myself to associate with Damien.

Eventually, the day came to a close and I went home, too anxious and eager to keep myself from getting ready right away.

After freshening up, doing my hair and makeup, and putting on my finest Levov-event-wear, I met Gemma, Benedikt, and their driver out front.

The two of them were in good spirits, with Ben looking at least a bit annoyed about having to spend his night at the event, but either way, we left the SUV in matching good moods and were escorted into the bar.

Given the nature of the Levovs and the kind of luxury they brought to everything they did, the bar wasn’t some run-down place full of seedy individuals. Instead, it was a well-kept, exclusive kind of place, and only those invited for the evening were in attendance.

Even if I was dressed the part and did my best to blend in, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I was sticking out merely based on me not having mafia associations as they all did.

I didn’t come from that kind of family, and I only brushed shoulders with them through Gemma, who didn’t have a whole lot to do with their business anyway outside of protecting them through the media.

In a way, it felt like I was wearing a costume all the while that imposter syndrome set in.

Despite that, I found myself stepping into that role and playing the part anyway. Aside from the Levovs and Novikovs, nobody knew me there, which meant I didn’t have anything to worry about. I could bear to pretend to be someone else for just a night.

At first, I was distracted by the initial wave of greetings the moment we moved through the bar. I saw some familiar faces and many I couldn’t pick out from a crowd in the slightest, but I found myself forgetting all about Damien until I spotted him across the way.

The Levovs and Novikovs both tended to be on the tall side, so it wasn’t easy to miss them, making it easier than anything for me to see him moving through the groups of people all while he chatted and schmoozed as intended.

I made myself busy with Gemma as we sipped our drinks and spoke to whoever came up to us, but I couldn’t help myself from sneaking glances at him.

Something in me wanted to be brave and just talk to him as if he were anyone else at the event, and maybe even flirt a bit for good measure, but that alarm within me wanted the opposite. It told me to shy away and keep myself out of sight.

It just felt easier that way. If I didn’t leave myself the chance to talk to him, then I wouldn’t have to worry about it in the first place, and there would be no harm done.

I hated feeling like a wimp for avoiding him, but at the same time, I was too confused by what I wanted and didn’t want.

As the night went on and I made the conscious effort to stay out of Damien’s sight, my breath caught in my throat as the inevitable happened.

While Gemma chatted to someone about her business, I caught as he looked my way and a flicker of recognition moved through him. Immediately, he started in our direction, sights set on me, and that confusing jumble of feelings rushed through me all over again.

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