Chapter 18: Wren

“When my husband told me that his younger brother got married to a woman named Wren, I honestly didn’t imagine it was gonna be you!” Julia's words were laced with excitement, her eyes shining with mirth.

“It's a funny story, actually,” I replied, my lips curling into a bright smile.

“It always is with the Tarasov brothers,” she said, subtly waving at a woman who'd waved at her first.

I hadn't seen her in forever, and the fact that she also married into the Tarasov family was a surprise I wasn't ready for. Julia seemed like she was happy in her marriage; her words were elated when she spoke, and her skin was radiant, simmering under the soft glow of the chandelier.

Julia's smile was still as charming as I remembered. Her bliss was palpable, and I couldn't help but wonder if I'd be as lucky with Afanasy.

She'd always been a fun and happy woman, although back then, I knew that beyond the smile was a bitter soul—I could see it in her eyes. I didn't know what her deal was, but I was certain that she wasn't the charming and sweet woman everyone thought she was. She was hiding something.

However, tonight, her smiles and laughs were completely genuine. She wasn't wearing any masks, and her eyes sparkled in ways I'd never seen before.

For a mother, Julia was still so damn gorgeous—a stunner who turned heads, perfect in every way, as revealed by the elegant gown that hugged her frame like a second skin.

Seeing her so happy melted my heart, my lips retaining an unwavering smile as I watched, appreciating the gladness she exuded.

“You okay?” Julia asked, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, concern flickering there. “Something on your mind?”

“Not really,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She squinted, examining me with suspicious eyes and tilting her head. “‘Not really’ is somewhere in between yes and no,” she said, watching me closely, her tone dropping lower. “You're confused, aren't you?”

I lifted my eyes, taken aback by the preciseness of her assumption.

She drew closer, standing by my side. Both of us were beside a champagne tower, and my eyes roamed the expansive space.

“I've been where you are, Wren.” She looked at me, her gaze etched with solemnity. “Confused, with conflicting feelings. I know what you're going through, and trust me when I say that it'll all turn out fine in the end.” She gently squeezed my fingers.

“How can you be so sure?” I questioned, my tone dripping with skepticism.

Deep down, all I needed was reassurance. I needed to know that my life wasn't so bad, after all.

“You sound like me two years ago when someone told me the same thing,” she said, her eyes never leaving mine. “Guess what? They were right.” She exhaled softly. “Sometimes, Wren, we find happiness even in the most unlikely of situations.” Julia shrugged her shoulders. “It's just life.”

I drew a deep breath, my anxiety dissipating as a fresh wind of calmness blew across my face. This was the clarity that I needed, and without question, I believed Julia's words. She was living proof that happiness could sometimes emerge from the most unexpected places.

I hadn't met her husband, but from the little I'd gathered from the maids, Roman was colder than Arctic water, a lot worse than my husband, Afanasy. Yet, in spite of this, Julia still found bliss in the midst of adversity.

If marrying a ruthless Bratva boss could turn out fine for her, maybe there was hope that I'd have the same luck.

Afanasy wasn't as bad as Roman, although I knew he could be the devil if need be. Ever since he married me, he'd been kind, sweet, and simply amazing. His sudden change was part of the reason for my fear and skepticism about the whole situation.

We hadn't said those three magic words yet, but deep within me, I knew what I felt. It seemed too soon to harbor such feelings for him, and I wrestled with my guilt every day for falling so quickly.

It couldn't be helped, though, I wasn't in control of my emotions, and a part of me strongly believed that Afanasy felt something for me, too.

Whenever he looked at me, his eyes betrayed his buried feelings. He hadn't admitted them—not to me, anyway—but I could see a glimmer of emotion in his eyes each time he stared at me.

And the sex? Thinking about it now made my mound tingle. The intensity of his touch, the way he made love to me, and his tender kisses were beyond just a physical act. These were all a profound declaration of his love—I hoped.

“Wren, sweetheart,” Julia's voice brought me back to the present, my gaze returning to her, “give it some time…. Everything will fall into place. I can assure you that.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners, a bright smile spreading across her face.

My lips curled into a matching grin, my head nodding in affirmation. “Thanks, Julia. This means a lot. I needed to hear that.”

Her phone rang in her diamond purse. She withdrew it and answered, “Hello?” She went silent for a second. “Okay, I'll be right there.” Julia hung up the phone. “Wren, I'm so sorry, but I have to go,” she said, her voice low and apologetic. “Something's come up, and I'm needed urgently.” Her words tumbled out in a hurry, accompanied by a swift kiss on my cheek. “I have your number. I'll call you later.”

“Sure. Take care.” I kissed her cheek, and she rushed out of the hall, her elegance unaffected by her quick paces.

I exhaled sharply, standing alone, eyes scanning the hall for my husband. I'd seen him leave, heading toward the balcony on the east wing, so he should still be there.

He'd refused to compliment me earlier, and that hurt me—broke my heart. That was because I was really looking forward to hearing his remark about my appearance, hence my disappointment when he didn't. His eyes betrayed him, though. I could see the admiration in their depths, but he still remained adamant about not voicing it.

However, despite how bad he'd made me feel, I was willing to let go and at least enjoy the evening with him. We came here to party, to have a good time—it was only logical that we did just that.

I glided through the crowd, and while in motion, I could feel the stares. It was awkward at first, especially since I was alone, but bit by bit, I grew accustomed to it.

The Tarasov family members weren’t shy or timid; one of the major characteristics of that family was confidence. I was a Tarasov now, and it was high time I started acting like one.

Discreetly, I drew a deep breath, straightening as I slowed my pace, my movements fluid and gracious. Poised, I continued, gliding through the elegant guests, my demeanor exuding confidence.

As I drew closer, I heard the indistinct voice of a woman but didn't think much of it until I rounded a corner and immediately stopped in my tracks.

The sight of a woman so close to my husband, her hands roaming his chest and eyes locked on him, stole my breath away. My jaw clenched with a blend of anger and hurt at how he just stood there, watching her caress him.

He was married, for Christ's sake! There should be boundaries to how he interacted with other women.

Hold on a minute….

I peered closely at the woman being so intimate with my husband. My eyes misted at the realization of who she was—the same woman he was fucking that day I caught them.

It happened before we got married, and I’d thought that he'd put an end to his affair with her and essentially every other woman he'd had a fling with.

How foolish of me!

My lips trembled, chest rising and falling as I watched her slide her hand down to his groin. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I sprinted away before they'd notice me.

At this point, my poise and confidence didn't matter to me; I just needed to cry out my feelings. My heart was racing, pounding noisily in my chest, as I rushed out of the hall, oblivious to everything around me.

Why? Why would he do this now that I was starting to build my hope for a better life with him? Why did he have to prove me wrong?

I knew the man I married was easy on the eyes and could be a flirt most times, but I’d genuinely thought that he was starting to feel something for me. I thought we had a connection that transcended sex and the circumstances behind our marriage.

I thought we had something good and promising going on. But clearly, it was all in my head. Afanasy didn't love me enough to show some respect and set boundaries with other women.

I'm sorry, Julia, but I guess you're wrong, I thought, storming into the garden, my tears flowing like a river.

My legs were too weak to carry my weight, my heart too heavy for me to keep moving. I tripped on my heels and almost fell. However, I was quick enough to grab the armrest of a nearby bench, upon which I sat.

Under the cold and distant stars, I cupped my face in my palms, weeping profusely—sniffling intermittently. I realized that he only married me so he'd take away my innocence, so he'd be the first and the only man to explore my body. Afanasy married me because he wanted a nice, innocent, and naive girl to play his wife while he fooled around with his other women.

How could I have been so stupid to ever think that he was capable of loving me and only me? Even if that would ever happen—which was, by the way, very unlikely—it wouldn't happen so quickly.

Afanasy was a natural flirt, a womanizer, and a chronic cheat; such people didn't just change overnight. I wasn't mad at him for being who he was—okay, maybe I was a little—I was angry at myself for letting my emotions cloud my judgment.

If I hadn't grown so attached to him, I would’ve never felt this much pain. If I didn't allow myself to feel something deep for this man, his infidelity wouldn't have bothered me.

I should've been prepared for this.

Afanasy was officially the second man after my father to shatter my heart into a million tiny pieces. And to think I thought that he felt sorry for how my dad treated me. What a dumb girl I was!

He said he'd always protect me—that nobody was ever going to hurt me again—and as foolish as I was, I believed him. Maybe he wasn't lying, after all, because he never said anything about not being the one to hurt me.

And, my God, he hurt me! He hurt me so badly. Was I exaggerating this?

I heard the bushes rustle, like someone or something had moved in it. Alarmed, I raised my head, wiping my tears as I looked around, scrutinizing the beautiful landscape.

I'd chosen this spot because it was away from the party; it was a place in the garden that was lonely, and I could cry without anyone seeing me.

The sound of a twig snapping stole my breath, my eyes widening as I recalled the night Afanasy abducted me. It was dark out here, and I was all alone. Maybe being alone wasn't such a good idea.

With my heart racing in my chest, I rose to my feet, chest rising and falling in absolute fear as a man stepped out of the bushes, glaring at me.

I didn't recognize him, but he had a distinctive feature—a scar across his face.