Accidental Bratva Daddy (Bratva Blessings)

Chapter 12Luka

12

Luka

T he Governor's mansion looms before us, its white marble facade gleaming in the moonlight. As our car pulls up to the circular driveway, I feel a twinge of anticipation. Not for the party itself—I've attended more of these vapid affairs than I care to count—but for the woman beside me.

I glance at Natalia, drinking in the sight of her. The green dress I chose for her clings to every curve, the color making her eyes shine like perfect jewels. Her fiery hair is swept up in an elegant updo, exposing the graceful line of her neck. A gorgeous golden necklace with a stunning diamond nestles just above the curve of her elegant cleavage. She's breathtaking, and the possessive part of me relishes knowing she's here as my wife for everyone to see.

But the other part of me regrets the way I’ve pushed her away. We could’ve leaned into this disastrous passion, but I’ve allowed it to fizzle out, and now I carry the consequences on my back, a heavy burden.

"Ready?" I ask, offering Natalia my hand as the driver opens the door.

She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "As I'll ever be," she replies, placing her hand in mine.

The warmth of her skin against mine sends a jolt of electricity through me. I resist the urge to pull her close, to claim her lips in front of God and everyone. Instead, I help her from the car, my hand finding the small of her back as we make our way up the grand staircase.

The foyer is a cacophony of noise and color, Moscow's elite mingling and preening like peacocks. The scent of expensive perfume and cigar smoke hangs heavy in the air. Natalia tenses beside me, and I give her waist a gentle squeeze.

"You've got this, darling," I whisper in her ear. "Just remember, you're Natalia Volkova now. You outrank every person in this room."

She shoots me a look that's equal parts irritation and amusement. "Except you, I suppose?"

I can't help the smirk that tugs at my lips. "Naturally."

As we step through the marble archways into the grand ballroom, I'm struck once again by Natalia's poise. She moves through the crowd with effortless grace, greeting guests with a warm smile that never quite reaches her eyes. I know she hates these affairs—the fake smiles, the shallow conversations, the constant jockeying for position—but you'd never know it from her demeanor.

It's a skill, no doubt honed from years of being Igor Orlov's daughter. As I watch her charm a group of oligarchs' wives, it strikes me how useful her media training will be for the deal I’ve struck with her. She's a natural at this game of smoke and mirrors, capable of pulling off deceit while charming complete strangers with a smile.

"Luka, darling!" A shrill voice cuts through my thoughts. I turn to see Anya Ivanova, the birthday girl herself, approaching with arms outstretched. Though it’s Anya’s fiftieth, you’d never know it from the work she’s had done. “I’m so glad you could make it!"

I plaster on my most charming smile, bending to kiss her powdered cheek. "Anya, you look radiant as ever. Happy birthday."

"Oh, you flatterer," she giggles, swatting my arm playfully. Her gaze slides to Natalia, curiosity and a hint of jealousy flickering in her eyes. "And who is this lovely creature?"

I wrap an arm around Natalia's waist, pulling her close. "Allow me to introduce my wife, Natalia Volkova."

Anya's eyes widen, her perfectly plucked eyebrows disappearing into her hairline. "Wife? My goodness, Luka, when did this happen?"

"Recently," Natalia answers smoothly, extending her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Ivanova. Your home is stunning."

As the women exchange pleasantries, I scan the room for Pavel. The Governor is nowhere to be seen, but I catch sight of a familiar face that makes my blood run cold. Viktor Orlov, Natalia's uncle, stands near the bar, deep in conversation with a man I recognize as one of the rival mafia's top lieutenants.

Shit.

I tighten my hold on Natalia, steering her away from Anya as soon as it's polite to do so. "We need to mingle," I say, keeping my voice low and calm. "Your family is here."

Natalia stiffens, her smile faltering for just a moment before she recovers. "What? Why would they?—“

"I don't know," I cut her off, guiding her towards a group of bankers I know to be loyal to me. "But we need to keep up appearances. Act natural."

For the next hour, we work the room like the power couple we're pretending to be. Natalia is flawless, her charm and wit keeping our conversation partners enthralled. But I can see the strain around her eyes, the tension in her shoulders.

As we step away from yet another group, Natalia lets out a shaky breath. "I haven't seen my mother or sister since my father's funeral," she mutters, bitterness lacing her voice. "They wouldn't even look at me."

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, a familiar voice cuts through the crowd.

"Natalia?"

We turn to see Alina Orlova approaching, her eyes wide with disbelief. She's the spitting image of her sister, though her hair is a shade darker and her features a touch softer. As she draws closer, her gaze narrows, focusing on me with undisguised hostility.

"What are you doing here?" Alina demands, ignoring me completely. "With him?"

Natalia straightens, lifting her chin defiantly. "I'm here with my husband, Alina. Surely you remember that I told you about the wedding?"

Alina's face contorts with a mixture of hurt and anger. “The wedding that you told me about after it happened, minutes before a gossip column came out about to spread the news? A column that would’ve been written before you bothered to tell me you were married? Yes, I remember! How could you, Natalia? After everything that's happened, you go and disappear?—“

I step forward, my voice low and firm. "I think there's been a misunderstanding, Miss Orlova. Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private?"

Alina's eyes snap to mine, blazing with fury. "I have nothing to say to you, asshole.”

"Alina!" Natalia hisses, glancing around nervously. "Keep your voice down. You don't understand?—"

"What's there to understand?" Alina cuts her off. "You married a complete stranger minutes after Papa's death, and you didn't even have the decency to be with us to mourn him! I haven’t seen you in ages.”

I can see Natalia crumbling under her sister's accusations, tears welling in her eyes. Something protective and fierce rises in my chest. Before I can think better of it, I place a hand on Alina's arm, steering her towards a quieter corner of the room.

"Listen to me very carefully," I say, my voice low and intense. "What happened to your father was tragic and awful, and your sister wanted more than anything to be with you to mourn him. But right now, there are forces at work that put your entire family in danger. It was my decision to keep Natalia away, to protect her and by extension, you and your mother."

Alina blinks, taken aback by my vehemence. "What are you talking about? What danger?"

I clench my jaw, choosing my words carefully as I glance around to make sure we're not being overheard. "Your uncle, Viktor. He's not who you think he is. He's been using your family as a shield for his own criminal activities for years."

"That's ridiculous," Alina scoffs, but I can see doubt flickering in her eyes. "Uncle Viktor would never?—"

"He would, and he has," I interrupt. "Why do you think he's here tonight, talking to known members of a rival organization? Wake up, Alina. Your sister needs you now more than ever."

Guilt flashes across Alina's face, quickly replaced by determination. She turns to Natalia, who's been watching our exchange with wide, anxious eyes. "Is this true? Are you in danger?"

Natalia hesitates, then nods slowly. "It's... complicated, Alina. But yes, I think I am. We all are."

Alina's expression softens, and for a moment, I see the sister Natalia's been missing these past months. "Oh, Natalia," she sighs. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to," Natalia says, her voice thick with emotion. "But I couldn't risk putting you in danger too. Can you forgive me?"

The sisters embrace, and I step back, giving them a moment of privacy. As I scan the room, I finally spot Governor Ivanov near the terrace doors. He looks nervous, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for someone.

"I hate to interrupt," I say, touching Natalia's elbow gently. "But I need to speak with the Governor. Will you be alright?"

Natalia nods, wiping away a stray tear. "Go. Alina and I have a lot to catch up on."

I press a kiss to her forehead, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume. "Be careful," I whisper against her skin. "And stay away from your uncle."

As I make my way across the crowded ballroom, I can feel eyes on me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, my instincts screaming danger. I quicken my pace, reaching the Governor just as he's about to slip out onto the terrace.

"Pavel," I say, gripping his arm firmly. "We need to talk. Now."

The color drains from his face as he recognizes me. "Luka, I—I wasn't expecting you tonight."

I smile, all teeth and no warmth. "Clearly. Somewhere more private, perhaps?"

Pavel nods jerkily, leading me through a hidden door and up a narrow staircase. We emerge in what can only be the master bedroom, all dark wood and opulent fabrics. As soon as the door clicks shut behind us, I drop all pretense of civility.

In one fluid motion, I draw my gun and press the barrel against Pavel's chest. "Where's my money, Governor?"

Pavel's eyes go wide with fear, his hands raised in surrender. "Luka, please, you don't understand?—"

"Then enlighten me," I growl, pressing the gun harder against his sternum.

"It was Viktor," Pavel gasps out, sweat beading on his brow. "He warned me not to pay. Said if I did, he'd expose everything. He wants to lure you out, Luka. The rival organization, they're here tonight. They're going to?—"

The bedroom door crashes open, cutting off Pavel's panicked confession. I whirl around, gun raised, just as a mountain of a man barrels towards me. I recognize him instantly—Sergei Volkov, no relation, known enforcer for the rival mafia.

I fire once, twice, but Sergei is on me before I can get off a third shot. We crash to the floor in a tangle of limbs, my gun skittering away across the polished hardwood. I hear Pavel's strangled cry, the sound of his footsteps as he flees the room.

Sergei's meaty fist connects with my jaw, stars exploding behind my eyes. I taste blood, copper and salt flooding my mouth. But the pain only sharpens my focus. I've been in worse scraps than this.

I have to get out of this, get to Natalia and warn her before Viktor can hurt her… or worse.