Page 63 of Twisted Obsession
The dynamic between Dmitri and me had shifted dramatically, like tectonic plates realigning beneath the surface. I confessed to him about the marriage license and the web of deceit Gavin had spun. Despite my insistence that it no longer mattered, since Ivan was dead and I was technically a widow, Dmitri’s eyes darkened with a resolve to make Gavin answer for his actions.
The harrowing ordeal of being kidnapped and the looming threat of assault by Ivan had left me unable to eat. The mere thought of food brought a wave of nausea, not because of the sustenance itself, but because each morsel seemed laced with memories that haunted me whenever I closed my eyes.
Dmitri had a suspicion that I might be pregnant, a notion I dismissed with certainty. Yet to quell his worries, I agreed to see the doctor he had summoned to the mansion to examine me thoroughly.
I sat quietly on the bed, watching the doctor retreat as Dmitri entered the room, his presence a mixture of strength and vulnerability. There were countless things I wished to articulate, but words seemed trapped on the tip of my tongue, unsure of where to begin.
“How are you feeling?” Dmitri asked softly, his voice a gentle murmur as he sat beside me on the bed.
“Better. The doctor gave me something to calm my upset stomach,” I replied, maintaining my stance that my queasiness stemmed solely from the trauma of the past twenty-four hours, not from pregnancy.
“Does it hurt?” he inquired, lifting his hand tenderly to my lips, his fingers brushing lightly over my cut and bruised mouth. “Did he…”
“He didn’t,” I assured him, placing my hand over his, seeking comfort in his touch. “Did you mean what you said? Am I the only woman you’ve ever loved?”
“Every word,” Dmitri assured me, leaning in to press his lips gently against mine, a kiss full of promise and regret. “I should have never kept things from you. I should have told you about Angelo and your real father.”
“We both should have done things differently. I should have left the tracker inside me.” My voice trembled as tears began to well up in my eyes, blurring my vision. The overwhelming emotion made it impossible for me to meet Dmitri’s gaze. I couldn’t bear for him to see me so vulnerable, my heart laid bare.
“I shouldn’t have given you a reason to doubt,” he said softly, his voice laced with regret. Gently, he lifted my chin with his strong yet tender hand, turning my face toward his. His eyes held a depth of sincerity that seemed to reach into my very soul.
With a final, lingering kiss, he slowly descended to one knee, his movements deliberate and filled with purpose. He looked up at me, his eyes shimmering with hope and love. “I should never have forced you into marriage,” he admitted, his voice steady and full of conviction. “I love you, Lara. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter what the future holds. Whether we have children or not is inconsequential. All that matters to me is you. If you’ll still have me, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
My heart swelled with emotion as I nodded, tears now freely flowing down my cheeks. Wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his, feeling the warmth and certainty of his love. “Yes,” I whispered against his lips. “I love you too.”
We remained on the floor for a moment and then Dmitri’s cell began to vibrate in his pocket. He swiped a few screens, and a smile graced his face before he turned his cell toward me.
DR. ELLIOTT: Congratulations, Lara is pregnant. She will need to come in to determine how far along she is.
Chapter Thirty
Dmitri
Today was one of the two most joyous days of my life. It was the day Lara whispered, “I do,” her voice a melody of commitment that resonated in my soul. I only wished the Red Knights were here to celebrate with me, but they had already faced enough exposure. I had to trust that no one would reveal our secret. The other best day of my life was discovering I was going to be a father. Although I had reassured Lara a week ago that it didn’t matter if we filled our grand mansion with the laughter of children, the reality of it happening filled my heart with an indescribable joy. Lara, too, was overjoyed, despite her initial shock when she first learned the results of the blood test. Only after we found out about her pregnancy did I discover she had a birth control implant meant to last three years. It seemed not everything was foolproof.
“Here,kukolka,” I said, handing her a flute of sparkling champagne, non-alcoholic, as we prepared to make our firsttoast as husband and wife. Its bubbles danced in the light, a reflection of our own effervescent joy.
The guests gathered around the expansive lawns, bordered by the vibrant gardens my mother had cherished so deeply. The air was perfumed with the scent of blooming roses and jasmine. Raising my glass, I turned toward Lara, the most captivating, breathtakingly beautiful woman I had ever known, who at every moment took my breath away.
“Lara, my beautiful wife,” I began, my voice filled with emotion. “Even though we haven’t known each other for long, you have awakened something inside me that had been lost for far too long. When my mother and sister were taken from me, my world turned dark. You saw through that darkness and showed me how to feel again. You will always have my heart. I am forever yours.”
“I love you,” she mouthed, her eyes glistening with tears.
The twinkling lights strung above us sparkled as the crowd erupted into applause and cheers, urging us to seal our vows with a kiss. I would never miss the chance to kiss my wife, whether in the privacy of our home or here in front of our loved ones.
The moment the song concluded and seamlessly transitioned into another, the wedding guests finally joined in, filling the dance floor with vibrant energy. As much as it pained me to release her, I knew I couldn’t prevent Angelo from stepping in to share the moment.
“Do you mind if I dance with my beautiful sister?” Angelo inquired, his eyes glistening with warmth and brotherly affection.
With a gentle kiss on her cheek, I deliberately stepped aside, surrendering the floor to them, and made my way to the bar, seeking a moment’s respite.
“Scotch, neat,” I instructed the bartender, my voice steady as I turned my gaze back to the scene unfolding before me.
My wife, Lara, now danced with her brother, her face illuminated with a joy that rivaled the twinkling lights overhead. Each new song seemed to blend seamlessly into the next, her laughter ringing out like a melody of its own as her head tilted back and her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. I found myself curious about the words Angelo had spoken to spark such a radiant smile.
“I never thought I’d see the day my daughter would marry an Antonov,” Giovanni remarked, his eyes fixed on the dance floor as he appeared beside me.
“I never imagined I would have a Balestrini as a father-in-law,” I retorted, a hint of tension creeping into my tone in response to his candid admission.
