Page 17 of Pregnant Bratva Wife (Vadim Bratva #13)

At that moment, Elena swept in with a tall, well-dressed man I didn’t recognize. “Everyone,” she called out, eyes locked on her brother, “Caspian is doing the unthinkable.”

He paused mid-pour, dramatically scandalized. “How dare you?”

“He’s opening the 2009 Amarone I’ve been eyeing for months ,” she announced, hands on her hips.

“You’ve drunk yourself through my entire wine cabinet. It’s a wonder I managed to save this precious beauty from you, ” Caspian replied, not missing a beat as he pulled the cork free with a clean pop.

I gasped a little. “No, Caspian, please, if it’s precious, don’t open it—”

“Too late!” he said triumphantly, already pouring the first glass out. “You said yes, and I only open the best for our guests.”

“You’re impossible,” Elena muttered, but there was no bite in her voice as Caspian was moving to hand her a glass.

The man beside her chuckled and leaned toward me. “Don’t mind them. This is foreplay for their sibling rivalry.” He extended a hand. “Gastone Ajello. Elena’s husband.”

I shook his hand, startled again. He was calm, charming in that polished Italian way, and seemed entirely unbothered by the growing volume of the wine-based bickering unfolding behind us.

Caspian handed me a glass as if it were a sacred offering. “Tell me if it’s too earthy. It opens up nicely.”

I took a sip. It was smooth, bold, and rich in a way that made me feel warmer with just one taste.

“It’s lovely, thank you,” I nodded.

I let my eyes wander over the room.

The living room was filled with laughter. Dante, the one I’d met briefly at the warehouse, was sprawled on a couch, arguing with Achille.

Luca and Giovanni were in a heated debate near the fireplace. Giovanni and Larissa were speaking to each other by the window. He leaned over, kissed her softly.

And Beatrice was in the corner setting out appetizers, tasting them as she did.

It looked... normal. Like any family gathering.

“Autumn!” Beatrice rushed over to hug me after she was done putting the appetizers. “Thank God you’re here! I was waiting for you!”

“Oh, umm…Hi Beatrice.” I smiled sweetly.

“Come on, let’s go talk. I saw Caspian taking half an hour to get you a glass of wine. The service we girls provide is usually faster.” She glared at her brother.

“Tequila shots straight from the bottle isn’t service,” Gastone mumbled, but his wife playfully whacked him across the shoulder.

Beatrice linked her arm through mine, guiding me away from the group and Federico. I glanced back at him, but he just smiled, giving me space to navigate his family on my own.

“Don’t worry about Federico,” Beatrice said, catching my look. “The boys are about to start their snooker tournament, and he won’t want to miss destroying Dante’s ego.”

She led me to the kitchen, where Kate was putting finishing touches on what smelled like risotto.

“I saw you rescued Autumn from Caspian’s wine-tasting,” Kate said, grinning.

“Some battles are worth fighting,” Beatrice replied. “Besides, I wanted to steal her for some girl talk before the testosterone takes over.”

I took a sip of my wine. “Is snooker that big a deal?”

Kate and Beatrice exchanged looks, then burst out laughing.

“Only if you ask them,” Kate said. “Last time, Dante accused Federico of cheating, and they nearly came to blows. Caspian had to separate them like children.”

“But they made up five minutes later,” Beatrice added. “That’s how they are. Explosive one minute, inseparable the next.”

I thought of the men I had seen at the warehouse, torturing someone. Yet here they were, squabbling over games like regular brothers.

“It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?” Elena said, joining us. “The family dynamics.”

I nodded, grateful for her understanding. “It’s not what I expected.”

“Never is,” Kate said with a knowing smile. “I felt the same when I married Caspian. They can be... overwhelming.”

“But they’re family,” Beatrice added. “Loyal to a fault.”

I watched through the doorway as the brothers gathered around the snooker table in the adjacent room.

But my eyes were focused on just one man.

Federico.

Federico bent over the table, lining up a shot, his focus absolute. His shirt pulled tight across his back.

I gulped. Thought back to when my nails dug crescents in that same back.

God, he looked good when he played.

The man was a study in contradictions. The gentle way he’d held me during my panic attack, versus the ruthlessness he showed when killing, when playing. The tenderness in his touch versus the strength with which he held that cue.

He sank the shot effortlessly and then rose off the table, smugly grinning at his brothers, and something about the boyish joy in his face made my breath catch.

“He’s different with you,” Elena said quietly beside me.

I turned to her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“Federico. He’s always been the most guarded of all of them.” She smiled softly. “But when he looks at you, he seems soft.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. What could I possibly say? That our marriage was merely a business arrangement?

And so, I just smiled.

A cheer erupted from the snooker room, followed by Dante’s dramatic groan. Federico whooped and jumped through the air.

Looked like he’d won again.

In that moment, with his guard down, laughing with his brothers, he looked like a different man. Just a man. Just Federico.

And despite everything I knew, everything I’d seen, I couldn’t help the warmth that spread through me at the sight of his smile.