Page 79 of Gilded Shackles
I let out a slow breath. "Now I just feel free."
Natalia smiles. "That's what letting go feels like."
"I always thought if I stopped caring about her approval, I'd lose some part of myself." I say it quietly, surprised by how true it is. "Turns out, that part was never mine to begin with."
Her hand finds mine. Warm and steady. "You're stronger than she'll ever understand."
I squeeze back. "You know what's crazy? Having you here made it easier."
She tilts her head. "I didn't do much."
"You stayed. That's enough."
Her smile widens, but something in her eyes stays still. That same faint shadow I noticed earlier, too quick to catch, too quiet to name.
"Always," she says.
23
ELLE
Ican’t sit still.
I’ve checked the table three times, fixed the same candle twice, and now I’m just standing here like an idiot, pretending I’m not freaking out.
“Okay, Elle,” I mutter to myself. “You’ve got this. You’re just telling the man you married that you’re pregnant. Stop freaking out.”
I smooth down the sinful little item I put on and head for the light controls.
Dim lighting screams romantic…right?
I glance at the mirror while passing by and immediately regret it. My lipstick looks all smudged and like it’s barely holding on, probably from biting my lip repeatedly in anticipation and nerves. I quickly fix it up, throwing another glance at the mirror, and force a breath.
It’s fine. You’re fine. He’s going to be happy. He loves Pasha,he’ll love this baby, and maybe, if I don’t faint mid-sentence, he’ll love this whole surprise idea too.
The bedroom glows golden, soft and warm, like the inside of a dream. The table by the window is set for two. Candles flicker in pools of wax. The air smells faintly of vanilla and for once, everything feels…peaceful.
And tonight, I’m going to tell Nikolai he’s going to be a father.
The thought still hits me in waves. Every time I think I’ve wrapped my head around it, the truth swells again—bright, impossible, holy. There’s a little heartbeat growing inside me, and it’sours.
I smooth my dress; black silk, simple, just barely modest enough to qualify as clothing. It slides against my skin like water when I move, the kind of dress that makes promises without saying a word.
I check the clock again.
Eight thirty. He’s late, but that’s not unusual.
The real surprise will be seeing him walk in and realize what I’ve done. Nikolai Ivanov, master of control, walking into something he didn’t plan.
Oh, I can’t wait to see how that’ll go.
I stare at the door to our bedroom. Any second now, he’ll walk in.
Any. Second.
My stomach flips when I hear footsteps outside the door.My eyes immediately go to the champagne chilling on ice near the table for two I’ve had set up by the window.
Too bad you can’t drink, Elle. My hand instinctively falls to my belly.
