Page 35 of The Bratva’s Stalked Pregnant Bride

Laurel went into the restaurant without me that morning since I was dead on my feet after following Aleks and Dima around, shadowing someone they were convinced would lead us to someone useful. It was a bust, and I was sure the guy was onto us, playing us the whole time, but Aleks was so fed up and desperate to end these people that I kept it to myself.

After a long nap, I woke up refreshed and eager to show off my bride. I sent her the address of the diner and headed out, not wanting her to arrive before me and get freaked out by my overzealous family.

“Be nice,” I warned them when they were all gathered at the long, pushed-together tables in the private party area.

Outside in the main dining room, it was packed with up-and-coming celebrities and a few members of old Hollywood royalty that even I recognized. A line had snaked down the block outside, tourists and regulars alike eager to eat the famous gourmet burgers and catch a glimpse of one of their favorite stars.

“We’re always nice,” my brother Luk said, then scowled. “Ilia and Oleg should be here, the little shits.”

I laughed at him calling our six-foot-plus twin brothers little shits, but most of the time, it was accurate. “To be fair to them, they couldn’t have arrived tonight if they tried,” I said. Last we heard from them, they were in Milan. Or maybe it was Venice. They couldn’t stay in the same spot very long, for a multitude of reasons.

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t have tried,” he answered bitterly.

I didn’t have to try to defend the twins, because my wife peeked her head tentatively into the room and I hurried over to shout out a group introduction. “This is my wife, Laurel. Laurel, this is almost everybody.”

In a blink, she was swarmed. Mila, Nat, and Sofiya got to her first, asking to see her ring and horrified to find her finger empty.

“It needed to be fitted,” she said, covering for my lapse. Damn it, she should have had the biggest diamond in town. “It’s beautiful, though.”

Some of the wives muscled their way in, asking how we met and how I proposed, delighted to learn she worked for me.

“So cute,” Clementine said, who also worked for my cousin Rurik. “The perfect way to get to know each other.”

The herd finally parted to let us sit down, and Laurel blushed prettily while Aleks made a solemn toast. As the salads arrived, my father dragged his chair over and squeezed in between Laurel and Nat, who was sitting on her other side.

“Oh boy,” Nat muttered, making Laurel go pale.

Maybe I shouldn’t have laid it on so thick about my father.

“Don’t scare her,” my father boomed, drawing Laurel in for a hug. “I’ve been waiting for this moment. Finally, another daughter.”

Well, damn it. Maybe I should have briefed him first. I didn’t expect him to be disappointed or pissed off, but I also didn’t expect him to think his eldest son rushing into marriage was such a great idea when he’d sworn it off for so long. Tati must have really changed his outlook on romance.

His wife calmly called him back to his own spot down the line. “Now you’re really scaring her,” she said.

“Oh no, I’m so happy you’re happy,” Laurel said, giving me a stricken look over my father’s shoulder. I only shrugged.

“He’s putting on a show for everyone,” I whispered, feeling a mild stab of guilt. Now I’d have to keep her away from him until… when? This was why I hated lies; they kept stacking up until they collapsed.

Other than that, Laurel held her own during the salad course, barely taking a sip of wine, but nodding appreciatively at Max, who made a big deal about picking it out especially for her.

“We don’t actually have a sommelier,” he said. “Almost everyone orders the signature cocktails or good old-fashioned light beer.”

I made a face, and Sofiya piped up that too many people were obsessed with calories in this town, taking a big chug of her foamy, dark ale. She knew what was good. After we ate our burgers, which no one could accuse of being low-calorie, Sofiya and Clem slipped out, returning with a rolling cart weighted down with a huge wedding cake.

“Since you couldn’t wait two darn weeks for the masters to throw together a wedding, we figured you should have a cake.”

“Um, we don’t throw together anything,” Mila sniffed. “Nat and I carefully craft the best weddings money can buy on the strictest timelines.” She faked a scowl at me. “But yeah, you could have waited a couple of weeks so we could have our fun.”

Laurel was bright red when we were urged to get up in front of everyone to cut the cake together, but her smile seemed real when she laid her hand on top of mine as I held the knife. Once we were stuffed with cake, some of my cousins who had babysitters waiting at home left, and the rest of us crowded out to the dance floor where some band that must have been popular in LA was setting up.

“It’s like old times,” I said, sweeping her into my arms as the first chord rang out.

Within seconds, the dance floor was packed, and I swirled Laurel off to the side, where I could have her to myself and not get trampled.

“What’s it been?” she asked, playing along, running her hands up my chest as we bounced to the beat. “A week?”

“I think it’s been two,” I said. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”