Page 26

Casian’s home, which also happened to be the Lebedev family estate, sprawled before me like a fortress. Despite having been a part of Gio’s family for months, I still felt intimidated by it.

I smoothed my hand over my swollen belly, six months along now, and went back in from the balcony I’d gone out to for some fresh air.

When I entered the living room, Caspian’s wife Kate walked up to me with an iced tea. Gently, she pressed it into my hands. “You feeling okay?” she asked.

I cradled by belly again and took a sip of the cool, refreshing drink. “This baby is always energetic,” I smiled. “But yes. I’m feeling fine. Just a bit tired.”

“You poor thing,” Bea said, sliding up to us and linking an around through mine. “I don’t know how you do it!”

“When you have your own,” Kate smiled at her. “You’d understand.”

We walked through the room to see what everyone else was up to. My brothers stood awkwardly near the bar, feeling out of place. Gastone’s absence hung in the air, but I forced it aside and focused on feeling grateful for the fact that Carlo and Dino showed. I knew that Gastone wanted them to cut me off. I knew how angry he still was and how he must view Carlo and Dino’s relationship with me as a betrayal. And yet, they were making an effort, all for me. I knew they still didn’t care for the Lebedevs.

I excused myself and walked up to them with a smile.

“More water, angel?” Gio appeared at my side, his whiskey-colored eyes warm as he offered me a glass. I raised my cup of iced tea, and he shook his head, knowing what I meant. Our families were spoiling me rotten.

He put aside the water and clinked his glass against mine, before turning to my brothers with a polite smile. To my surprise, they raised their own glasses and met Gio’s halfway.

Caspian watched us from across the room. His expression remained unreadable, but at least he had stopped referring to me as “the Italian problem. “ I supposed that was progress. Federico and Dante argued about something in hushed tones while Luca was off on his phone, doing God knows what.

Just then, Achille pulled up. “So, Carlo, Dino, if I were to buy an Italian car that the ladies would love, what would you suggest?”

I swear I saw Carlo try hard not to roll his eyes. I motioned at Gio and we made our exit from the group. I wanted to give Carlo and Dino an opportunity to get to know Gio’s family without me lingering by.

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 mouthing play nice to 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.

“Is that so?” I laughed softly, resting my hands on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. “Wait... you don't think this is where—”

“Where what?”

I nodded toward my belly. “Where we created this little one?”

His laughter was deep, genuine. “It's possible. We weren't exactly careful those first few times.”

“Or the times after that,” I added. “Maybe we should make sure, though. For scientific purposes.”

“Scientific, huh?” The rumble of his voice sent shivers down my spine. “I've always been a supporter of thorough research.”

His mouth found mine, tasting of the whiskey he'd been drinking downstairs. His kisses were still intoxicating, even after months of having him. I'd never tire of this—the way he held me like I was precious, how he seemed to know exactly when to be gentle and when I needed more.

“You're wearing too many clothes for proper science,” I murmured against his lips.

“A problem easily solved.” He stepped back, unbuttoning his shirt. Each inch of naked skin made my mouth go dry. There was a new tattoo on his arm—my name, in Russian. I traced the outline of it before he grabbed my wrist.

“Your turn,” his eyes inched over my body in a playful manner.

I stepped back and unzipped my dress, letting it pool at my feet. Pregnancy had changed my body, made my breasts fuller and my hips wider, but the hunger in Gio's eyes never dimmed.

“You get more beautiful every day,” he said, his voice rough. “Carrying my child suits you.”

“Does it?” I stood before him in just my underwear, suddenly shy despite everything we'd done together.

“You have no idea.” He stepped out of his pants, his arousal evident through his boxers. “Come here.”

I went to him willingly, letting him guide me to the narrow bed. It creaked under our combined weight, making me giggle.

“I hope this thing holds,” I said as he lowered me onto the mattress.

“If it breaks, I'll buy a new one.” His hands were warm as they skimmed over my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “But I kind of like the idea of breaking my childhood bed with you.”

His fingers traced the elastic of my underwear before slipping beneath, finding me already wet for him. I gasped as he circled my clit with pressure.

“Gio,” I breathed, arching into his touch.

“Patience, sweetheart,” He slid one finger inside me, then another, his thumb maintaining that maddening circular motion. “I want you to enjoy this.”

My body responded to him with embarrassing ease. The tension built quickly, my hips moving of their own accord against his hand. Just as I felt myself approaching the edge, he withdrew his fingers.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice dark with promise. “I want to be inside you when you come.”

I whimpered at the loss, but the complaint died in my throat as he removed his boxers. His cock sprang free, hard and ready. The sight of him made me dizzy with want.

He positioned himself between my thighs, careful not to put weight on my belly. “Tell me if anything hurts,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my collarbone.

“I'm pregnant, not broken,” I reminded him, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him closer.

The first push inside made us both groan. He filled me completely, stretching me in a way that bordered on too much but never crossed that line. He began to move, slow and deliberate at first, his eyes never leaving mine.

“You feel like heaven,” he said, his accent thicker with arousal. “Like you were made for me.”

“Maybe I was.” I ran my nails lightly down his back, knowing it drove him wild. “Maybe this was always meant to be.”

The idea seemed impossible, the sister of an Italian Mafia don and the brother of a Russian Bratva leader, but here we were.

His thrusts grew more insistent, and I felt the familiar pressure building again. One of his hands slipped between us, finding my clit.

“Let me feel you, Larissa,” he commanded, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

The combination of his voice, his touch, and the relentless pressure of him inside me was too much. I came with a cry that he muffled with his mouth, swallowing the sound as my body clenched around him. My release triggered his own, and he buried himself deep inside me with a groan, his body shuddering against mine.

For a moment, we lay tangled together, catching our breath. His weight was carefully distributed to the side, one hand still protectively curved over my stomach. I felt the baby flutter beneath his palm, as if acknowledging his presence.

“I felt that,” he whispered, wonder in his voice.

“She knows her father,” I said, placing my hand over his.

“She?” His eyebrow arched. “You sound certain.”

I shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

He pressed his lips to my temple, then my cheek, and finally to my mouth. “Boy or girl, it doesn't matter. This child is a miracle. You've made me the happiest man in the world, Larissa Ajello.”

“Soon to be Lebedev,” I reminded him, nodding toward the engagement ring on my finger.

His smile was slow, satisfied. “The best decision I ever made was bringing you here.”

“Kidnapping me, you mean.”

“Semantics.” He laughed against my skin. “The result is the same. You're mine, and I'm yours, and not even your stubborn brother can change that.”

I curled into him, listening to the distant sounds of our families downstairs. Maybe Gastone would never accept us, but we had built something worth fighting for.

“We should go back down before they send a search party,” I said reluctantly.

“Five more minutes,” Gio murmured, tightening his arms around me. “The world can wait.”

*****

THE END