Page 6 of Pregnant Bratva Wife (Vadim Bratva #13)

A low laugh escaped me before I could stop it. Christ, she was fire.

Pervert. That was a new one. Women usually tried to do one of two things: flatter me or seduce me.

But Autumn? Beautiful, infuriating Autumn in that dress that hugged her waist so damn tight? Gorgeous, firecracker Autumn with that blonde hair spilling over skin that glowed?

That Autumn looked me dead in the eye and called me a pervert.

She looked like a fucking angel—with the mouth of a devil.

She quirked an eyebrow at me. Fuck. In her presence, I forgot I had a tongue.

“I only lurk when the view’s worth it,” I said, deliberately letting my eyes linger.

The fire in her eyes as she threw me a glare? Could’ve melted steel.

“You’re disgusting.”

“And yet, here you are. Trying on wedding dresses for me.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. That stubborn chin of hers tilted higher like she wanted nothing more than to show me my place. To show me I meant nothing.

Too bad for her—I admired the hell out of it.

“Don’t confuse necessity with consent, Federico.”

“There’s that sass.” I stepped fully into the room now. “Careful, Autumn. You keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you actually want this.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” she hissed, her blue eyes locked on mine. God. That blue. It didn’t seem right for a woman so beautiful already to be gifted a pair that sinful.

“Are you done staring?” she frowned, finally breaking off eye contact.

“Not even close.” I moved closer, enjoying how she stiffened but refused to back away. “You look... spectacular.”

A flush crept up her neck, but she rolled her eyes. “Save the compliments. We both know this is just for show.”

“Does that make it any less true?”

She didn’t answer, but turned back to the mirror, smoothing her hands over the dress. Her fingers trembled slightly.

She wasn’t as tough as she looked.

“I think you should get the dress.”

“Great. Approval granted. You can go now.” She turned and pointed at the door.

God, she was magnificent when she was angry. Even when wearing a dress I would pay for, in a house I owned, agreeing to marry me for money, she still acted like she held all the cards.

“You know,” I said conversationally, “most women would be trying to impress their future husbands.”

“Most women aren’t marrying their husbands for debt forgiveness,” she retorted.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “True. But you could at least pretend to be pleasant.”

“You want pleasant?” She crossed her arms and put on a sweet smile. “Fine. You look very handsome today, Federico.”

Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “I can’t wait to be your wife. I’m sure we’ll be blissfully happy together until the day I pay off my debt and run screaming for the hills.”

“Better,” I said with a grin. “But your delivery needs work.”

“Go to hell.”

“After the wedding,” I promised. “With you by my side, I’m sure I will.”

She made a sound of frustration, and I chuckled. Getting under her skin was becoming my favorite hobby. The way her cheeks flushed, the way her eyes sparked with indignation—it was an addiction.

I stepped closer. She held her ground, crossed her arms tighter. We were inches apart now, and I could smell her perfume. God, she smelled divine.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Just seeing how far you’ll let me push before you run away.” I reached out, letting my fingers brush a strand of hair from her face. She flinched but didn’t move.

“I’m not running anywhere,” she said firmly. “I made a deal.”

“Yes, you did.” I put down my hand, cocked my head, and gave her a wink. “But I wonder what would happen if I tried to cash in early.”

Her breath caught. “You said you wouldn’t force anything.”

“Force? No.” I let my gaze drop to her lips and broke into what I knew was an antagonizing grin. “But what if I asked nicely?”

For a moment—just a flicker of time—I saw it. The hitch in her breath, the slight parting of her lips.

Desire.

It was there, beneath that tough facade.

She wanted me too, even if she’d never admit it.

But just as quickly, the shutters came down. “I’d say you’re wasting your breath.”

I stepped back, giving her space. I wouldn’t be the one to give in first. My pride wouldn’t allow it.

When Autumn Malone came to my bed, it would be because she wanted to, not because she felt obligated.

I’d make sure of that.

“Finish up with Margot,” I said, walking toward the door. “Choose whatever you want. Dress. Shoes. Jewelry.”

“Of course, a budget isn’t a thing,” she muttered. “Not for you.”

I paused at the doorway, looking back at her. Standing there in that gown, surrounded by mirrors that caught her in every direction, she looked like a dream I couldn’t quite grasp.

“Three days, Autumn,” I reminded her. “And then you’re mine.”

Her eyes narrowed. “On paper.”

“We’ll see.”

I left her there and headed upstairs to work out before dinner with my family.

* * *

I was late reaching Caspian and Kate’s house.

I valued punctuality. But Autumn had gotten under my skin, and I’d spent longer than planned in my home gym, working out my frustration on a punching bag that couldn’t fight back.

All my siblings’ cars were already in the driveway. I pushed through the front doors, not bothering to wait for the doorman to get it, and rushed to the living room, where I knew they’d all be gathered.

I walked in and saw my family hanging around, laughing and chatting over drinks before dinner, as was customary in any good Russian household. We didn’t eat till we got drunk. It was an unsaid motto, of sorts.

Kate was the first to notice my entrance. “Oh my god!” She made her way from the bar with a wide smile on her face. “Look who finally graced us with his presence!”

Dante, who was lounging on a chair nursing his scotch, raised his glass at me, accompanied by a lazy wave. Of course, he didn’t dare muster up the energy to rise and greet me.

Kate pulled me into a hug while my youngest sister, Beatrice, threw me an accusatory look that could put anyone to shame. “You missed Scrabble.”

“It’s not like he ever wins,” grinned Caspian, patting me on the back before he guided me towards the bar.

At the bar, I stood around and sipped some red wine. Liquid courage, right?

Giovanni and Larissa strolled over for refills. Larissa playfully nudged her shoulder against mine. “Why are you late, anyways?”

“Traffic,” I lied smoothly. “Larissa, you look lovely as always.”

My sister-in-law smiled warmly. “We were about to send out a search party. You’re never late.”

“That’s Larissa’s way of prying,” Giovanni gave his wife a warning glare. “I’m sure Federico was busy.”

“Something like that,” I said, thinking of queenly blue eyes.

Before long, Kate called us all for dinner and we took our seats. The serving staff brought out the first course, and I waited until they had left before making my announcement.

“Everyone,” I called for attention loudly. My family, those animals, continued talking around me.

I shoved back my chair. Stood. Eyes snapped in my direction.

Finally.

“I have an announcement to make. I’m getting married.”

The silence that followed could’ve made a man think he was dead.

“What the fuck?” Dante’s eyes nearly fell out of his head.

Caspian blinked. “Come again?”

Kate actually dropped the spoon in her hand. “Are you drunk?”

“No.”

“Are we drunk?” Luca raised his eyebrows.

“No.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” Caspian frowned.

“It’s not a joke. It’s happening,” I said. “This weekend.”

“And where exactly did you meet this girl?” Caspian asked, his tone making it clear he already suspected the worst.

I gave them the sanitized version—meeting her after she accidentally damaged my car, being struck by her honesty and spark, deciding she was the one.

I left out the manipulation. The debts. I didn’t want them to get any preconceived notions about her.

To think she was a gold digger. Because she wasn’t.

Autumn Malone was one thing: Loyal to a fault.

When she agreed to marry me, it was a sacrifice she made for her sister.

Now that was who she was, and I didn’t want anyone to think any less of her. Some of my siblings? They wouldn’t have understood. It was easier not to give the whole truth.

“This is insane,” Achille said, shaking his head. “You’ve known her what, a week? Two?”

“Sometimes you just know,” I replied calmly.

“Bullshit,” Dante snorted. “You don’t believe in that romantic crap.”

He wasn’t wrong. I’d always approached relationships strategically. But this was strategic too, just in a different way.

I wanted her.

“Have you forgotten what happened with Elena?” Caspian asked quietly.

“Hey!” Elena protested from her seat, leveling a glare at Caspian. Thank god Gastone wasn’t there that night, or he would have blown a fuse. Gastone had kidnapped Elena in revenge against our family because his sister, Larissa, fell in love with my brother, Giovanni.

As a result? Love won all around, but things got complicated.

“Elena and Gastone are as happy as can be,” I declared, and received a wide smile from my sister. Well, at least I now had Elena on my side.

“But it could have gone sideways,” Caspian insisted.

“There wouldn’t be any such problems,” I assured them. “She’s innocent. Not from our world.”

“Then why the rush?” Caspian asked. “Why not wait, do this properly?”

Because she might change her mind. Because I couldn’t risk losing her. Because something about her had gotten under my skin from the moment I saw her.

“I don’t want to wait,” I said simply.

My siblings exchanged looks. They knew me well enough to know that when I made up my mind, it was nearly impossible to change it.

“What’s her name?” Kate asked with a sigh.

“Autumn Malone. She’s twenty-four.”

“Twenty-four?” Kate’s eyebrows shot up. “She’s fifteen years younger than you.”

“She is,” I shrugged. “But she’s the one for me.”

A silence fell around the room. Still tense, but a little more accepting.

I took my seat. Took a bite of my food, all gone cold. Looked around the table. “The wedding is three days from now. This Saturday, 2 pm. At my estate. I expect you all to be there.”

“That’s... very soon,” Beatrice said carefully. “I assume it will be small?”

“Just family and a few close friends,” I confirmed. “Not a big deal.”

Dante snorted. “Not a big deal except that you’re marrying a complete stranger.”

I shot him a warning look, and he raised his hands in surrender, but I could see the concern in his eyes. The same concern in Caspian’s gaze.

They thought I was making a mistake. Perhaps I was.

But something told me that Autumn Malone was worth any complications that might arise. Let them worry. Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.

***

The day of the wedding arrived with perfect weather—sunny but not too hot, a gentle breeze coming off the lake. The kind of day that photographers pray for.

I stood at the altar we’d set up in the garden, surrounded by beautiful flowers and the handful of people I trusted most in the world. Caspian, Giovanni, Luca, and Achille stood behind me. Fidgeting. So much for groomsmen. Their anxiety put mine to shame.

Dante, my best man, stepped over to fix my tie.

“You doing okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” I lied.

But I wasn’t. I was a mess. I was petrified I’d be the star groom in the next version of The Runaway Bride.

My palms were sweating. Federico Lebedev, the man behind the building of a great empire, was nervous about a wedding.

A fake wedding, no less.

Except it didn’t feel fake. Not with the minister standing beside me, not with the legal documents waiting to be signed, not with my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape.

I couldn’t stop staring at the aisle, waiting for her to appear.

Then she did.

And I swear, everything else blurred.

She wore the dress that I said she looked beautiful in—the one with the beaded bodice and the elegant dip in the neckline.

It clung to her in all the right places, tormenting in every possible way, and flowed around her like a fucking dream.

She wasn’t just beautiful—she was incandescent.

And her hair? Blonde. Beautiful. In loose waves.

Like she knew how beautiful she was. Like she knew a goddess didn’t need a hairstyle.

She was a flame wrapped in silk.

She walked towards me. Slow. Steady steps.

Alone, just like she’d wanted—“No one gives me away,” she’d insisted with blazing eyes. And fuck if that didn’t make me want her even more.

She looked nervous as hell, eyes fixed forward, but her chin was up.

Always up.

The music faded as she reached the end of the aisle. Her eyes. Those dazzling, blue angelic eyes met mine.

And that was it.

Any doubts I’d had—any lingering shadows from the past—burned away the moment she took my hand.

Mine.

Now and always.