Page 62 of Knocked-up Bratva Bride
My hands trembled slightly at my sides.
This was real. Not a fake performance. Not a fantasy played out for an audience of a hundred strangers. This wasn’t about photos or centerpieces or perfect vows rehearsed. Once we sealed this and walked out of here, I would be hiswife.
My stomach twisted.
What if I made a run for it, into that field, and let the tall grass swallow me whole, vanishing before anyone could say my name out loud?
“You have to walk down the aisle now.”
I closed my eyes for a heartbeat, then slowly pivoted to face Roman with a phony smile. “Yeah, thanks. I’m well aware.”
“Didn’t seem like it,” he said with his eyes glued to the raised podium, taking a step away.
I knew the blond man didn’t like me, but his angst was the least of my concerns now.
As I moved through the grass and approached the stage, I couldn’t take my eyes off Damien.
He was in a black suit that fit too well. No tie. Just the open collar of his shirt and that impossible calm in his eyes. Like this was just another deal. Another signature on a contract.
Our eyes locked.
And for a moment, nothing else existed. Not the field, not the arch, not Nana or Jasper, or the weight of what I was supposed to do.
The priest began to speak—something about unity, destiny, and sacred vows. I didn’t hear the words.
I heard my heartbeat, loud and frantic, each thud a hammer against my ribs. It all moved too quickly. His voice,deep and steady, said the vows with a certainty that made my stomach turn.
Then my vows, spoken in a whisper, were barely audible. They were words that scraped my throat like broken glass.
These were sacred words, meant to bind. Words I never thought I’d say to him.
The ring was colder than I expected, a circlet of gold that slid over my knuckle like it had been waiting for this moment to trap me. As if it knew what it meant. That there was no going back. That this was the moment my freedom died.
I wanted to cry and scream.
And yet….
When I looked up, when our eyes met as the final words were spoken,“I now pronounce you man and wife”—something inside me cracked.
Damien’s gaze held mine, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe for an entirely different reason. Because my heart leaped.
Stupid, treacherous thing. It leaped and fluttered and screamed, not in fear, but in some twisted echo of desire.
Damien didn’t smile. He didn’t need to.
There was something behind his eyes that said more than any smile ever could. The same thing that lingered in them when he told me in his office that Katya would have no choice but to accept us. It was that knowing, that possession.
And I—
I hated how it made me feel.
I was his now. I was bound not just by words, but by something that set my blood on fire and iced my soul in equal measure.
***
It had been a long day at school. My uniform felt stiff, my shoes were tight, and my brain was sluggish with equations and essays. I remembered how the air was heavy with latesummer heat, and how I’d collapsed onto my bed the moment I got home, the ceiling fan above spinning lazy circles.
That night, I watched a movie I probably wasn’t supposed to. A love story, soft, sweet, and scandalously intense. The couple had a fairytale wedding: flower petals rained down, music swelled, and the groom kissed his bride like she was the only thing in the world keeping him alive. And then the honeymoon….
