Page 78 of The Russian's Bought Bride

By the end of the night, I’m emotionally exhausted in a completely different way than I’m used to, just not from fear or grief. Instead, it’s from…people.

There are so many people here, and after being stowed away in Nikolai’s place for so long, I’m not used to it.

The Lukovs somehow manage to dominate every room they’re in without even trying, each of them intense in completely different ways. Roman has that quiet authority that makes everyone instinctively listen when he speaks, and Mikhail watches everything like he’s already three steps ahead of the conversation. Sergey is upfront about his shameless charm, while Ivan is quieter and more laidback. Even Elena, as elegant and composed as she is, has a will to her that makes it clear she belongs right alongside her brothers.

And despite all of that, I never feel unwelcome.

It’s strange. I expected to feel scrutinized and judged all night since I don’t exist in their world as they do. Instead, I mostly feel almost absorbed into all of it.

Not completely, of course. I’m still aware that I’m the outsider in the room, and the unfamiliar variable attached to Nikolai in ways even I don’t fully understand yet. But nobody treats me like an inconvenience, and nobody makes me feel like I don’t belong there.

If anything, they seem oddly determined to include me, and it’s disorienting in the nicest possible way.

Being an only child, I’m not used to this kind of chaos. My home growing up was quiet, and for a long time, it was justmy dad and me. We had small dinners, quiet movie nights, and comfortable routines that didn’t involve taking too many risks.

The Lukovs are the opposite of calm and quiet.

Someone is always talking over someone else, and the occasional argument breaks out when another person tells a story wrong, only to be resolved within minutes. There’s teasing, shouting from across rooms, overlapping conversations, and laughter erupting at random moments.

It should feel only overwhelming, but instead, it feels warm. Warmer than what I’m used to.

I catch myself watching them several times throughout the evening, especially his siblings together. Beneath all their rough edges and intimidating reputations, there’s something fiercely loyal tying them together. It’s obvious in the way Roman automatically checks on everyone without making it obvious, and how he de-escalates when conversations get heated. The way Sergey keeps trying to make people laugh whenever the mood shifts to something too serious.

And Nikolai…God.

Seeing him around them changes something in my fundamental understanding of him.

At home, he always feels tightly wound, like every emotion gets filtered through layers of restraint before it reaches the surface, and he only allows himself breaks from it when he decides to.

Here, more cracks in his armor show, and while he tries to maintain it still, it’s enough.

Enough for me to notice the dry humor he only lets loose around family, and how he tolerates teasing from his siblings with far more patience than I thought he possessed. The subtleprotective instinct he has toward every person in that house is unlike anything I’ve seen before.

It humanizes him in ways I’m probably not prepared for.

By the time we finally leave Roman’s estate, the desert air feels cool against my overheated skin, and I exhale softly the second we step outside.

Nikolai notices immediately while opening the passenger door for me. “Overstimulated?”

“Definitely,” I admit, not finding any point in saying otherwise.

A subtle smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he nods once. “I’m one of them, and I get the same way. You survived better than most people do.”

“Is that a compliment?”

He hums. “Of course.”

Sliding into the SUV, I shake my head while he circles toward the driver’s side, and before long, we head out.

Vegas glows in the distance as we pull away from the estate, the city sprawling endlessly below the hills. The Strip shines bright enough to make the desert itself disappear, and for a while, neither of us speaks.

The quiet feels comfortable now in a way it didn’t before, and to my relief, it isn’t as tense as it used to be. For once, it doesn’t feel like we’re both bracing for the worst.

Eventually, Nikolai glances toward me briefly while one hand rests loosely against the steering wheel, and his voice reaches me softer than usual. “You did well tonight.”

I snort to myself. “I wasn’t aware I was being graded.”

“You were, in a sense.”