"Go ahead and get accustomed to the estate. Charlotte's probably bursting to interrogate you."
He's not wrong. The moment we're back in the hallway, Charlotte is pulling me toward what she calls "the family room."
"Okay, rapid-fire questions," she says, settling us both on a comfortable couch. "How are you feeling? Are you okay? Has Zakhar been treating you well? Do you need anything?"
"I'm... overwhelmed. But okay. And yes, he's been... good to me." I wince a little, and blush, but Charlotte just grins and pats my hand.
"Good." She leans closer, lowering her voice. "I know this is all very… different. Trust me, I’m locked into a contract with mine. Vitali decided I was his, and suddenly I went from maid to wife and it was nerve wracking." She shrugs, like being contracted to a man is normal.
"How are you handling it?"
"Honestly? I didn't, at first. I panicked. Tried to fight it. But then I realized something."
"What?"
"These men, they're intense and possessive and sometimes infuriating. But they're also loyal. Protective. Once they claim you, they'll move heaven and earth to keep you safe and happy."
"That's a lot of pressure."
"It is. But it's also... freeing? Like, I don't have to carry everything alone anymore. Vitali handles things. He takes care of me. And I take care of him. It works." She drifts off, getting lost in her thoughts and I don’t ask what happens at the end, when the terms of the contract have been met.
Instead, I ask, "What if I can't handle this world?"
"You can,” Jasmine says. “You're already handling it. You said yes, didn't you?"
"I did."
"Then you're braver than you think." She squeezes my hand. "And you're not alone. You have me now. And Charlotte. And Emma, she's engaged to Avros, lives in the converted barn alittle way down from yours. She's a former ballerina, absolutely lovely. She'll want to meet you too."
"There are so many people."
"There are. But they're family. Your family now. We take care of each other."
The door opens, and Zakhar appears. "Ready to see our place?"
I nod, standing. Charlotte hugs me, her bump firm and round between us, and whispers, "You're going to be fine. I promise."
Then Zakhar's hand is on my back again, guiding me out of the main house toward his, our, home.
It's beautiful. Two stories, modern but warm, with large windows and an open floor plan. The kitchen is huge, the living room comfortable, and upstairs...
"Our bedroom," Zakhar says, pushing open the door to a large room with a king-sized bed and an en-suite bathroom.
Our bedroom. Not his. Ours.
"What do you think?" he asks.
I turn to face him. "I think this is all too much. I think I barely know you. I think I should be heading back to the bakery any minute…"
"But?"
"But I'm here. And I know that when I'm with you, everything feels less impossible."
He crosses to me, pulling me against his chest. "It is less impossible. Because you're not doing it alone anymore."
I tilt my head back to look at him.
"Spend some time settling in. Get to know the family. Figure out what you want to do with the bakery. And we..." He trails off, hand sliding down to press against my lower belly. "We startworking on that heir. Time is tight since I wasn’t planning on following through with my uncles ridiculous request."
