Page 34

I heaved a sigh, standing before the full-length mirror, the soft glow of the hanging chandelier casting a gentle warmth across my reflection.

The dress Nik had chosen for me—an elegant, deep sapphire gown—flowed delicately over my curves, hugging my figure in all the right places.

The classy gown cascaded gracefully over the swell of my seven-month belly as I stood balanced on a pair of black low-heeled pumps that enhanced my overall look.

I ran my manicured hands down the sides, smoothing the fabric with care, my touch tender and almost reverent.

My belly, round and prominent, seemed to give the gown an ethereal charm, as though I carried not just life, but also quiet power.

My eyes lingered on my reflection for a bit.

In them was a quiet strength beneath my gaze—a mix of wonder, weariness, and quiet pride.

Nik had hired professional makeup artists and hairstylists to take care of my appearance.

I had no idea what was going on, and when the maid, Olga, brought them into my room with a charming smile on her face, she claimed she was just as shocked as I was.

The professionals did their jobs wonderfully well, and I almost couldn’t recognize the woman in the mirror.

My honey-blonde hair was swept into a neat, soft, romantic updo, with loose curls escaping to frame my face. At the crown, a few strands were curled and pinned delicately, giving me a timeless, graceful look that seemed to complement the elegance of the evening.

I’d told the make-up artist that I didn’t want something glamorous or loud—nothing too heavy enough to attract unwanted attention. So, she made it such that my makeup was subtle yet stunning—warm, earthy tones that blended seamlessly with my natural complexion.

My eyes were softly defined with shades of gold and taupe, making them sparkle in the light.

My lips carried a muted rose tint, not too much but enough to draw attention without overpowering my look.

One thing was certain: The woman looking right back at me in the mirror was an absolute beauty, a goddess radiating all around.

A small smile played on the corners of my lips as I stared at my reflection, my heartbeat steady in my chest. It was as though I’d been transformed into a whole new person—maybe even a bride.

My hands smoothed out the faint wrinkles on my dress, a dress Nik had gotten me as a present just before the professionals stepped into my room.

Why?

What was he up to?

First, he bought me a classy and rather expensive gown, and then he had me made up, ready for God-knows-what.

What was he playing at this time?

He’d never shown any interest in how I looked or how I presented myself. I was of the opinion that he didn’t care about that aspect of my life, hence the reason for my shock. He was clearly taking me somewhere; I just wasn’t sure where, and the more I thought about it, the more nervous I became.

The professionals had left the room the moment they were done, leaving me to my thoughts and feelings. My pulse was starting to quicken, and so was my heart. Any moment from now, I’d have to meet him downstairs and present myself, the version he’d had those professionals turn me into.

I shut my eyes, drawing a deep, long breath, manicured fingers fidgeting at my sides. My heart skipped a beat when I heard the door open, and I turned toward the entrance almost immediately.

Olga stood there, holding on to the door handle. Her brows arched, disbelief coloring her eyes. She wouldn’t move, nor would she take her gaze off mine. Her mouth was slightly open in wonder, and her jaw dropped to mirror the shock in her expression.

“Okay, Olga, now you’re starting to make me feel uncomfortable,” I muttered, averting my gaze to the floor.

“Wow!” she exclaimed as she drew nearer to me. “Miss Alessia, you look like a goddess,” she remarked, her eyes shining with adoration. “Nikita will be so proud.” She reached out and held my hands.

I managed to raise my head. “You think so?”

Her lips curled into a smile as she gently squeezed my fingers. “I know so,” she said, holding my gaze.

I exhaled sharply, feeling encouraged by her words. “Where do you think he’s taking me?”

Olga shrugged her shoulders, her expression soft and polite. “I’m not sure.” She paused for a moment as though she was thinking. Then, with a sigh, she continued, “I’ve known Nik since he was a little boy. I know how he thinks, how he behaves, and how he treats women.”

I listened carefully, anticipating where she was going with this.

“Miss Alessia, I’ve never seen him look at any woman the way he looks at you,” she continued, retaining her smile. “Never has he bought a single present for any of them…yet here you are, dressed up in a gown he personally picked out for you.”

My heart melted at her words, and I didn’t realize until it was too late that I’d been smiling the whole time.

She leaned in. “Do you know what he asked me?”

I shook my head, eager to hear her response.

Her voice dropped to a low whisper when she said, “He asked me, ‘ Olga, do you think this dress will look great on her? I don’t want anything ruining her beauty.’ ”

I chuckled, my eyes crinkling at the corners. “He said that?”

“He did.” She nodded and slowly extended a hand to my face, her palm resting on my cheek.

“Miss Alessia, I know it doesn’t look like it right now, but believe me when I tell you, everything will fix itself in due time.

” Her voice was slow and deliberate, each word carefully placed, like she was trying to anchor me with them.

“Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it, Olga,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, weighed down by the doubt creeping back into my heart.

“I understand.” Her lips curved into a smile, her voice laced with conviction. “But someday, you will look back at all of this and laugh. I promise you that.”

“You sound so confident,” I said, wishing I were half as optimistic as she was.

“I am,” came her reply. “Soon, you will understand why.” Her thumb brushed against my skin. She inhaled deeply and smiled. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you, Olga,” I whispered, beaming at her. “For everything.” My fingers gently squeezed against hers.

Olga had been like a mother to me since the first time we had a conversation in the kitchen the other day.

She was one of the few reasons why I hadn’t lost my mind yet.

The woman’s kind heart and jovial nature were a stark contrast to the darkness that surrounded this place.

I still hadn’t figured out what she was doing here, and from what she said a while ago, she’d been working for the Tarasovs since Nik was a kid.

I had a lot to ask her, but now wasn’t the time. I’d get that opportunity later on, but for now, I had a mystery place to be with the father of my unborn son.

“Come,” Olga said, “it’s best not to keep him waiting.”

I heaved a sigh and stole one last look at my reflection before following her downstairs.

As I descended the stairs, I gripped the rail tightly, careful not to trip on the hem of my dress.

Under the soft glow of the chandelier, each step felt exaggerated in the silence.

I could see him in the living room, his back against me, and the closer I drew, the more I forgot to breathe.

Adjusting my posture, I lifted my chin just a bit, pretending as though my heart wasn’t threatening to jump out of my chest. Resplendent in a black suit, Nik turned around to face me, his eyes squinting for a fleeting moment.

Although his expression was blank—unreadable—his gaze swept across my figure as if drinking in the sight he beheld.

I halted before him, pursing my lips while bracing myself for his reaction—whatever that might be.

He watched me in silence, my heart racing like a friggin’ galloping horse.

The air was thick with the perfect blend of his cologne and my feminine perfume.

This whole time, my eyes were on the floor, my cheeks flushing for no reason.

“Come,” he said softly. “We’re running late.”

I raised my head and saw him standing there, gesturing toward the door.

“The car’s waiting outside,” he added, meeting my eyes for the first time today.

My heart sank into my stomach, and a flutter rose in my chest as I discreetly swallowed.

His gaze stirred up a familiar emotion inside me, the same one I was yet to name.

We stared deeply into each other’s eyes, but neither said a single word, despite the tension brewing between us.

His eyes, those charming blue eyes, slightly crinkled at the corners, his dark hair styled to perfection and simmering in the soft light.

The man was gorgeous, looking nothing like the brute that he was.

His imposing height towered over me, his muscles bulging from underneath his blazer while exuding an air of sophistication and confidence.

I was glued to his face, handsome and attractive, taking in even the slightest of details, including the gentle curve of his inviting lips.

The moment I got a grip of myself, I blinked a few times and broke eye contact. Quietly, I headed toward the door, and he followed up behind me like a bodyguard.

Once in the car, he turned the ignition, and the sleek SUV’s engine roared to life. He stole a quick glance at the front passenger seat, and I responded with a faint smile, pushing a loose strand behind my ear.

As the vehicle traveled down the serpentine driveway, I turned to him and asked, as politely as I could, “Where are we going?”

He looked at me and replied, his expression still blank, “The annual Tarasov family gathering.”