Page 55 of Forced By the Obsessed Bratva

Warmer.

He spoke to the boy, nodded once, then ruffled his hair in a gentle, intimate gesture. The kind you couldn’t fake.

It made something in my chest tighten unexpectedly. Tears sprang to my eyes, blurring my vision, and I peered up at the chandelier to keep it from falling.

But the image in front of me lingered in my mind.

Matvey with a child, smiling as if he weren’t made of stone and ice. Smiling as if he were more human than the monster I assumed he was.

And for the first time since I found out I was pregnant, a part of me wasn’t so negative about being pregnant with his child.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be terrible at all.

Perhaps this life, this marriage, this child growing inside me, wasn’t the prison I’d thought it was.

Inhaling once again, I lifted my chin and walked over to them.

Elena smiled brightly as she saw me coming from across the room.

I walked faster, running into her arms and hugging her tightly. “Elena.”

“Oh my God, Zoe.” She hugged me back, squeezing me between her arms. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” I pulled back and looked at her from head to toe. She was glowing. She’d changed so much over the years. “Happy anniversary.”

“Thank you, Zoe. I’m so happy to see you,” she said, taking my hand. “We’re more than friends now. We’re family. Isn’t that exciting?”

I nodded. “It is. Becoming a Yezhov isn’t that bad after all.”

“No, it isn’t. I’m sorry I missed your wedding. I needed to be at an event since Damien couldn’t miss the wedding.”

I smiled at her. “It’s fine.” I glanced over to Damien. “Hi.”

“Hello, how are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” My gaze flickered to Matvey for a minute. He was so engrossed in whatever discussion he was having with Elena’s son.

“How about we excuse ourselves, grab a drink, and have some girls’ time?” Elena asked. “Let’s leave the boys to their…thing.”

“Good idea. I need some fresh air anyway.”

Elena grabbed two glasses of champagne from a tray and handed one to me before we strolled out to the patio.

I didn’t drink mine; I just held it.

The evening had grown cooler now, shadows casting long over the garden below.

We leaned on a railing outside, both sighing at the same time before she sipped from her drink.

She smiled the moment her eyes met mine, and she regarded me for a moment. “You look wonderful. Exhausted—but wonderful.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.” She sipped her wine again. “How’s married life treating you?”

I smiled slightly. “It’s complicated.”

She nodded. “It always is.”