Page 84
Story: Forced Bratva Bride
We walked to the corner of the room and watched the exchange with Achille play out. Achille was motioning with his hands, more Italian than my brothers, who stood politely, trying to understand if he was for real.
I didn’t bother suppressing my laugh.
“Your brothers seem uncomfortable,” Gio murmured, his lips close to my ear. “Should I go rescue them?”
I shook my head. “They need to learn to adapt. This is our family now.” I rested my hand on my belly, making my point.
Gio's fingers tangled with mine, squeezing gently. “You're right. Though I think Dino might break that glass if he grips it any tighter. I wonder what Achille’s talking about now.”
“Probably hotels in Italy for those ladies,” I grinned, and beside me, Gio laughed.
The sound traveled across the room, and Carlo caught my eye. He smiled at me, although it looked more like a grimace.
“They're trying,” I said after mouthingplay niceto Carlo. “That's more than Gastone is doing.”
The mention of my oldest brother made Gio's jaw tighten. Gastone's refusal to acknowledge our relationship, let alone the pregnancy, was a wound that hadn't healed.
“He'll come around,” Gio said, but we both knew it might be a lie.
“I'm not holding my breath.” I sipped my iced tea, watching as Elena approached Dino with a plate of food. My brother stiffened but accepted it with a nod.
“They love you,” Gio corrected, his hand sliding to the small of my back. “The fact that they're here means they love you more than they hate me. Gastone knows they visit. He’s allowing it, which means he knows you’re his family.”
I leaned into his touch. “No one could hate you for long.”
“You did a pretty good job of it for a while,” he teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“That was before I knew how good you are with your hands,” I whispered, and was rewarded with a darkening of his eyes.
“Speaking of which...” His fingers traced small circles at the base of my spine. “Want to see something?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Now? With all your siblings and my brothers here?”
“Trust me.” He took my hand and began guiding me toward the grand staircase.
“We're going to get food,” he called to no one in particular as we slipped away. Beatrice caught my eye and winked knowingly, but no one else seemed to notice our escape.
The upper floor of the Lebedev house was quieter, the sounds of the gathering fading as Gio led me down the hallway.
“Welcome back,” he said, stopping at a door and pushing it open.
I gasped when I entered. “Your childhood bedroom!”
“If I recall right, you didn’t get to see much of it the last time around,” he said as he noticed me take a look around, my eyes traveling from the trophies on the shelves to all the books and old trains.
“Little Gio,” I said, running my fingers over the spine of a well-worn copy of “Crime and Punishment.” “Were you always so serious?”
“Not always.” He closed the door behind us. “I was known to smile on occasion.”
I turned to face him. “And what about now? Do you have reason to smile?”
His eyes dropped to my belly, and the tenderness in his expression made my throat tight. “More reason than I ever thought possible.”
He crossed to me in two strides, his hand warm as it rested against the curve where our child grew. “Do you remember the first time I brought you here?”
“How could I forget? My first family gathering, though they believed we were friends,” I smirked.
“I preferred to think of it as keeping a secret for our sanity.” His lips quirked up.
I didn’t bother suppressing my laugh.
“Your brothers seem uncomfortable,” Gio murmured, his lips close to my ear. “Should I go rescue them?”
I shook my head. “They need to learn to adapt. This is our family now.” I rested my hand on my belly, making my point.
Gio's fingers tangled with mine, squeezing gently. “You're right. Though I think Dino might break that glass if he grips it any tighter. I wonder what Achille’s talking about now.”
“Probably hotels in Italy for those ladies,” I grinned, and beside me, Gio laughed.
The sound traveled across the room, and Carlo caught my eye. He smiled at me, although it looked more like a grimace.
“They're trying,” I said after mouthingplay niceto Carlo. “That's more than Gastone is doing.”
The mention of my oldest brother made Gio's jaw tighten. Gastone's refusal to acknowledge our relationship, let alone the pregnancy, was a wound that hadn't healed.
“He'll come around,” Gio said, but we both knew it might be a lie.
“I'm not holding my breath.” I sipped my iced tea, watching as Elena approached Dino with a plate of food. My brother stiffened but accepted it with a nod.
“They love you,” Gio corrected, his hand sliding to the small of my back. “The fact that they're here means they love you more than they hate me. Gastone knows they visit. He’s allowing it, which means he knows you’re his family.”
I leaned into his touch. “No one could hate you for long.”
“You did a pretty good job of it for a while,” he teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“That was before I knew how good you are with your hands,” I whispered, and was rewarded with a darkening of his eyes.
“Speaking of which...” His fingers traced small circles at the base of my spine. “Want to see something?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Now? With all your siblings and my brothers here?”
“Trust me.” He took my hand and began guiding me toward the grand staircase.
“We're going to get food,” he called to no one in particular as we slipped away. Beatrice caught my eye and winked knowingly, but no one else seemed to notice our escape.
The upper floor of the Lebedev house was quieter, the sounds of the gathering fading as Gio led me down the hallway.
“Welcome back,” he said, stopping at a door and pushing it open.
I gasped when I entered. “Your childhood bedroom!”
“If I recall right, you didn’t get to see much of it the last time around,” he said as he noticed me take a look around, my eyes traveling from the trophies on the shelves to all the books and old trains.
“Little Gio,” I said, running my fingers over the spine of a well-worn copy of “Crime and Punishment.” “Were you always so serious?”
“Not always.” He closed the door behind us. “I was known to smile on occasion.”
I turned to face him. “And what about now? Do you have reason to smile?”
His eyes dropped to my belly, and the tenderness in his expression made my throat tight. “More reason than I ever thought possible.”
He crossed to me in two strides, his hand warm as it rested against the curve where our child grew. “Do you remember the first time I brought you here?”
“How could I forget? My first family gathering, though they believed we were friends,” I smirked.
“I preferred to think of it as keeping a secret for our sanity.” His lips quirked up.
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