Page 21 of Pregnant Bratva Wife
Then she did.
And I swear, everything else blurred.
She wore the dress that I said she looked beautiful in—the one with the beaded bodice and the elegant dip in the neckline. It clung to her in all the right places, tormenting in every possible way, and flowed around her like a fucking dream. She wasn’t just beautiful—she was incandescent. And her hair? Blonde. Beautiful. In loose waves.
Like she knew how beautiful she was. Like she knew a goddess didn’t need a hairstyle.
She was a flame wrapped in silk.
She walked towards me. Slow. Steady steps.
Alone, just like she’d wanted—“No one gives me away,” she’d insisted with blazing eyes. And fuck if that didn’t make me want her even more.
She looked nervous as hell, eyes fixed forward, but her chin was up.
Always up.
The music faded as she reached the end of the aisle. Her eyes. Those dazzling, blue angelic eyes met mine.
And that was it.
Any doubts I’d had—any lingering shadows from the past—burned away the moment she took my hand.
Mine.
Now and always.
Chapter 6 - Autumn
I said “I do” to a stranger in a garden full of people I didn’t know.
When Federico leaned in for the kiss, I expected it to be perfunctory.
A peck.
Something to seal the deal, like signing on a dotted line.
But his lips lingered just long enough to make my heart skip, just soft enough to make me want more. It was still perfunctory… yet it wasn’t.
The bastard pulled away with a smirk, like he knewexactlywhat he was doing to me.
And just like that, I was Mrs. Lebedev. Wife to a man I’d known for exactly eleven days.
Mother of God, what had I done?
The wedding reception was... surreal. Held in the east wing of Federico’s mansion, the place looked like something straight out of a fairy tale.
Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, ice sculptures in every corner, tables draped in white silk, and floral arrangements so beautiful and large that the entire place looked and smelled like a botanical garden.
I tried to keep my face neutral, graceful, classy. Whatever that meant. I imagined Meghan whispering in my ear:Chin up, posture straight, fake it till you make it.But Meghan wasn’t here.
The thought stung.
I scanned the crowd, overwhelmed by soft lighting and clinking glasses and murmurs of “How divine.”
This world wasn’t mine.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Federico murmured, his hand at the small of my back as we entered.
