Page 63 of Bratva Bride

I stared at my reflection in awe. I couldn't believe the transformation these women managed to make. I barely recognised myself. They had spent the last few hours meticulously going over every inch of my skin, removing any blemishes they could find. They spent an inordinate amount of time on my hair and makeup. More time than I think I've ever spent on either in my entire life. But I have to admit, they did an amazing job.

My long, black hair was left to flow freely down my back, a few strands braided back so they wouldn't get in my way. My face had layers of makeup applied to it, from foundation to blush to eyeliner and mascara to my signature red lipstick. I had it all, and it looked tasteful. I didn't look like a two-cent hooker and I guess that's all a girl can wish for on her wedding day, right? That and not getting stood up.

My wedding dress (well my mother's wedding dress) fit perfectly. The sleeves ran all the way down to my wrists and were made of the softest lace I'd ever felt. The bodice had an intricate design that hugged my body flawlessly, showing off all my curves in a respectful manner. The open back gave the dress the perfect style for a statement-making bride like myself. The train of the dress only ran a few metres behind me and was made of the same lace material that encompassed most of the dress.

All in all, it was beautiful. More beautiful than I originally thought. My white heels were only a few inches, putting me around 6'4. Thank the devil that Arturo is a tall motherfucker.

Tatiana sniffed, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Oh my god, you look so beautiful,” she cried, wrapping her arms around me.

I smiled and hugged her back. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, T. I would be utterly lost without you.”

“Oh, I know,” she chuckled, pulling back. She shook herself off and gave me a bright, beaming smile. “Alright, I’m going to make sure everything is in order downstairs. Try not to freak out.”

“I don’t freak out.”

She smirked. “Sure you don’t. I’ll see you out there.” She opened the door and left.

For a moment I was alone, alone with nothing but my chaotic thoughts to keep me company.

Holy fuck, I'm getting married.

My anxiety spiked. My palms started to sweat. My heart thumped so loudly I could hear it in my ears.

I can't believe I'm getting married. Me! It's fucking insane. I'm insane. Who marries a man they've only just met? Oh. . . me! A crazy woman.

I don't think I can do this. Can I do this? No. YES! I can. I'm Illayana Rae Volkov, daughter of Dimitri Volkov, The Bratva Butcher andPakhanof the whole motherfucking US Bratva. I can do whatever I put my mind to, right?

The sound of someone knocking on my bedroom door pierced my thoughts.

"Illayana?Sestra?" Sister?Lukyan's voice was firm yet calm as he opened the door and stepped inside.

He was wearing a dark tailored tuxedo, the black dress pants and black jacket encompassing his body entirely. His long, dark hair was tied up neatly at the nape of his neck.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his brows furrowed as he made his way over to me.

I could see the concern etched on his face, yet I couldn't bring myself to acknowledge it.

"What if I'm making a terrible mistake, Lukyan? What if I can't do this?”

I looked down at my hands, only just realising they were shaking. My entire body felt like a bundle of nerves, and I couldn't remember a time in my life when I felt so. . . scared. I didn't like it.

He gave me a sincere look and clasped my trembling hands in his, holding them close to his chest."Sestra, breathe. You can do this. There isn't anything in this world you can't do. The question isn't if you can do this, it's do you want to?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in, taking comfort in his presence. I reopened my eyes to Lukyan watching me intently. "I do. I'm just nervous. Not only am I marrying a man I only just met last week, I'm packing up my entire life and moving hundreds of miles away from the only home I've ever known. From the only family I've ever known. The whole thing is. . . daunting," I sighed.

Lukyan nodded, giving me a sad smile. "I know. But you can take comfort in one thing."

"What's that?"

His eyes flashed with excitement as his lips curved into a broad grin. "You're not going alone."

I turned to face him fully, a smile creeping onto my face as I processed his words. "You're coming with me?"

He scoffed. "Of course I am. Did you seriously think I'd let you go without me?”

“But Father? The Bratva?”

“Will be completely fine without me,” he said, a smile still on his face.

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