Page 72 of Used By the Bratva

Maybe a marriage so I'd have an heir, but even that was doubtful.

Now I stand over my perfect son while my beautiful wife lies in bed, her chocolate-colored hair flowing over the sheets and her white nightgown bunched at her thighs.

We’ve only been back from the hospital for a week, but it feels like we’re really starting to find our rhythm as a family.

Natalie watches me from the bed; her gaze is full of love. “It’s still hard to believe that we created someone so perfect. Marina told me that love would hit me as soon as he was born. She said I would take one look at his little face and know that I would throw you in front of a bullet to save him.”

Chuckling, I run my fingers over his soft cheek. “She still doesn’t like me. But she’s right; I'd be mad if you didn’t.”

She laughs and snuggles deeper into the pillows and reaches for the bassinet. “Can you please move it a little closer? I want to be right next to him when he wakes up in the night.”

I push the bassinet closer to her side of our bed before turning to the other side and slipping under the covers next to her. “When I first saw you in the restaurant, I never thought we'd end up here.”

“Yeah, you thought I would be just another good fuck,” she says in a teasing tone as Alexandr begins to cry.

“Watch your dirty little mouth, solnyshko.” I scold her playfully.

She coos as she bends over him and lifts him out of the bassinet to press him against her chest. Her fingers stroke the dark strands of hair that are so like her own, but when he opens his eyes, they are mine.

He is the perfect combination of the two of us, his little lips curve just like mine. I have no doubt that tomorrow, when Natalie is sketching and drinking her morning coffee, she will tell me how hard it is to get our lips right.

“Part of me still thinks I’ll wake up in the morning and all this will be gone. I would find out that this was nothing but the best dream of my life, and then I would spend the rest of my life making that dream come true.”

I put an arm around her shoulders and pull her to my side as we make ourselves comfortable on the cushions. “That's the reality. Nothing will ever change that.”

She rests her head on my shoulder and smiles down at our son. “Do you want more children?”

The question surprises me, but I suspect that it is one of the things a normal couple would have talked about before getting married.

“Natalie, I will have as many babies with you as you are willing to give me. I have a whole soccer team if that’s what you want.”

Her cheeks turn that pretty shade of pink I love so much, spreading across her cleavage to her breasts. “I want to have a few more babies. But I don’t know how many. But I want a big family. It was so lonely growing up without siblings.”

I kiss her temple. “As soon as you’re able to have sex again, we’ll start working on the next thing. After six weeks without sex, you won't leave this bed for a week.”

She laughs and shakes her head, running a finger over Alexandr’s cheek. “It’s a good thing he doesn’t understand us. Imagine how scary it would be to hear your parents talking about more children.”

“I don’t think he’s going to remember any of this. He was only born a week ago.” My fingers drift over her shoulder. “I love you, my sweet, solnyshko.”

“I love you too. And I love it that you still call me little sun.” She melts into my side, those big brown eyes turning to me.

“It seems like we were waiting forever for our little man.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I spent most of that pregnancy worrying about him and whether he was going to be okay after I was kidnapped and look at him. He’s perfect.”

“I know you were worried.”

I’ve spent most of the last six months worrying. I didn’t think I'd be the kind of man who watches Natalie's every move and won't leave her side, but after seeing how easy it was for Carlo to get to her, I’m glued to her.

Nothing will ever happen to her again.

If anyone comes up with the idea of pursuing her or our son, I will kill them on the spot. They will never have the chance to get to her again.

Natalie hums and rocks Aleksandr. She gets out of bed, walks over to the speakers, and turns them on, the European Orchestra flowing through. The soft music fills the room as she paces with him.

A few moments after he falls back asleep, Natalie slips him back into the bassinet.

I get out of bed, cross the room to her, loop my arms around her waist, and we sway to the music.

She puts her arms around my shoulders and presses her body closer to mine while we dance, and our son sleeps soundly. “Marina will be here in a few weeks to meet him, and Pearl wants to meet her little nephew tomorrow.”

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