AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Breathe in, breathe out, it’s simple. Just keep telling yourself: We can handle this.” Luka’s arms wrap around me, drawing me close to his solid, reassuring chest. I can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, as he leans down to kiss my forehead.
“Everything’s fine,” I say to myself, wanting to believe it. But the tremble in my voice gives away the fear I’m trying so hard to hide.
“We got this, krasotka,” he whispers, his breath warm against my skin. “Trust me.”
I want to believe him. I want to feel safe and protected. But I can’t shake the nagging doubt, the gnawing fear that something’s off.
“Why do you think she wants me to bring Yulia to the barn at eight?” I ask. “I’m scared, Luka,” I confess, looking up into his eyes. “Anya, or whatever her name is… She seemed…evil.”
I see a flicker of something in his eyes, a tightening of his jaw. But then he’s pulling me closer, his arms like steel bands around me, as if he could physically shield me from the world.
“Go to the barn as she asked, krasotka.”
“But- but…” I stutter, my eyes searching his for reassurance. Luka’s fingers gently cup my face, forcing me to focus on him.
“I have people watching over you and Yulia,” he says firmly, his gaze unyielding. “You won’t be alone.”
“We are putting Yulia in danger, too!”
He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering on my skin. “That’s why I’ve taken precautions. Every move, every corner, someone will have eyes on it.”
I can see the sincerity in his eyes, the determination. It’s evident that he has gone to great lengths to ensure our safety. But the weight of the situation, the responsibility, makes me hesitate.
“What if something goes wrong? What if—”
“Hey,” he interrupts gently, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheek. “Trust me.”
I nod slowly, drawing a shaky breath. “Okay, I trust you.”
Luka leans in, his forehead resting against mine. It’s crazy how much I understand him. Even in silence. I know…
I can trust him. Completely.
The second Luka steps onto the cool, gleaming expanse of the main hall’s marble, a distinct hush falls. Eyes, previously busy in conversation, now fixate on him. My heart swells, pride bubbling up, and there’s this silent acknowledgment within me: he belongs to me.
Under the hall’s bright chandeliers, Luka moves with an effortless grace, engaging with the guests – a nod of recognition here, a brief yet meaningful exchange there. As he weaves through the crowd, I can’t help but laugh at our first encounter. It seems like a lifetime ago.
“Max! That’s too big of a bite.” I look over to a marvelously designed ice cream stand, where Dimitri, Erik, and Yulia are engrossed in their frozen delights. The stand itself looks like it’s straight out of a fairy tale, with silver swirls and golden stars shimmering around its canopy and ethereal lights floating like fireflies. An array of exotic flavors, some even glowing faintly, are displayed decadently.
Yulia, her face smeared with strawberry ice cream, is gleefully trying to get a taste of Erik’s triple-vanilla cone. Beside them, Max looks on with keen interest, licking his lips, clearly yearning for another taste.
I laugh, covering my mouth with my hand at the adorable sight before me. “Oh, Yulia, you’ve got a little…” I gesture around my mouth, mimicking the smear of ice cream on her face.
She giggles, wiping her chin with the back of her hand. “It’s just so yummy, Sophia!”
Before I can respond, a couple approaches Yulia. The woman wears a sapphire silk gown, her raven-black hair in an elegant updo, her throat highlighted by a glinting diamond necklace. Beside her, a tall man in a charcoal gray three-piece suit and polished shoes stands proudly. They bend slightly to greet Yulia.
“Happy birthday, darling,” the woman coos.
“Thank you, Mrs. Montague,” Erik replies with practiced politeness.
Mafia boss playing businessman now, huh?
The woman bats her heavily mascaraed eyelashes, stretching a grin so wide it looks painful. “I hope you like it, sweety.” A maid steps up, handing Yulia a big, fancy velvet box.
Bet that’s not a stuffed toy inside.
The Montagues aren’t the only ones. One by one, influential figures, from politicians to business moguls, come forward, showering Yulia with their extravagant gifts. The weight of their offerings and the glint in their eyes betray their intentions – these aren’t simple birthday gifts. They’re offerings, gestures of goodwill to the Ivankov Bratva.
