Page 82 of Knocked-up Bratva Bride

“Oh, and I have something to tell you guys, too.” She grinned, pulling away. “I might have some secrets of mine that have to come to the light.”

Damien tilted his head. “What is it?”

She took a breath, and I saw her spine straighten.

“I’ve met someone,” she said.

Damien’s brow lifted slightly. “Oh?”

“And I…I need your blessing, Papa. Before we go further.”

He pondered quietly before asking, “Who is it?”

Katya hesitated. Then, she turned her head and looked at the man who stood by the door, hands clasped in front of him, hard eyes fixed on Damien, jaw set like he expected a bullet.

Oh, my God!

Fedor.

Now, it made sense to know how Katya figured out the details of our relationship. Fedor and Damien were as close as two peas in a pod. He knew every single thing about Damien’s life, including the moment I crossed into their world.

Katya looked back at her father with a twinkle in her eyes. “We’re in love.”

My hand found my chest, but Damien didn’t move. Didn’t blink. The room fell into a stillness so thick it could suffocate.

“Fucking son of a bitch.”

“Papa!”

“Damien!”

Katya and I shrieked at once, but Damien ignored us. “Since when?”

Fedor didn’t so much as flinch. He came forward, dressed smartly in his suit, his voice gravelly low. “When we returned to LA. I…I was going to tell you, but she literally threatened to scratch my eyes out if I didn’t let her talk to you about it. We didn’t mean for it to happen. But it did. And I love her. I swear to protect her with my life.”

I saw Damien’s fist clench, but he didn’t explode with rage. He looked at his daughter. Then at me.

I swore, if the silence got any thicker, it could’ve smothered the whole damn room. Then—

Damien chuckled.

It burst out of him like a sharp and startled cough, but genuine, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. Fedor may have looked like some of the worst criminals from Gotham, but he was a good man. I could testify that he had been loyal and steady.

He’d stood by Damien when few dared. And as much as it must’ve stunned him, he knew Katya was in safe hands. I thought so, too.

“You’ve got guts,” Damien muttered, clapping a hand on Fedor’s shoulder. “But I swear, if you ever hurt her, I’ll bury you under the fucking wine cellar.”

Fedor nodded solemnly. “Understood.”

Then Damien turned to Katya, kissed her on the forehead, and smiled—truly smiled. “You have my blessing.”

I exhaled a deep breath. And then we were all laughing. Even Fedor. It was absurd, and I blurted before reasoning, “Look at that, Kat, you got yourself a darker shade of Alan Ritchson. More tats and stuff.”

She rolled her eyes, walking up to me. “Nah. There are no comparisons here. My Fedor’s way hotter.” She winked quickly, sobered up, and stretched out her arms. “I missed you, Lena. So fucking much.”

I was crying again, because who knew? Maybe wecouldgo back to how things used to be, when it was Kat and Lena against the world.

“Come on, Lena. Don’t make me beg in front of my father and boyfriend.”

I rolled my eyes but threw myself into her arms regardless, hugging her with all of my heart and soul.

“Why do you always have to be so dramatic?”

***

THE END