Page 15 of Sinful Bride

I nod stiffly and he takes her from Mama. I don’t know which to focus on more: the former Bratva boss now gingerly cradling my newborn in his arms, or the spitfire mother of said newborn deferring decisions to me.

Progress.

Arlo’s muttering in Russian pulls my attention back to him. What I do catch reminds me of the prayers family members traditionally utter over their young.

What I don’t understand is why he’s giving them. Or why tears of joy are glistening in his eyes as he murmurs. When he’s finished, he presses a soft kiss to her brow and carefully gives her back to her mother.

“You are so blessed to hold your child close.” He returns to Mama’s side with a wistful gleam in his gaze. “All children are gifts. But there is something special about your firstborn that gives them an eternal space in your heart.”

Again, he glances at me. He almost looks… sad.

Taty begins to fuss in her swaddling, so my mother and Daphne turn their attention to her. Arlo gives me a nod and slips out of the room.

And I’m just left standing here, wondering what exactly that man has been through.

6

DAPHNE

“She looks weird.”

I stifle my laugh. “Aww, Gentry. She’s so pretty! Just like your sister.”

My six-year-old nephew makes a face as he peers down at Taty. “Why is her face all scrunched up like that?”

“Gentry!” Mel swoops in to scold her son, but surprisingly, Pasha takes over.

He winks at my sister, then crouches down next to Gentry—who does not know this man or what his deal is. The look he gives Pasha is almost funnier than the one he gave Taty. “She does look a little mushed, doesn’t she?”

Gentry nods. “And wrinkly.”

“I bet I did, too, when I was born. All babies have to squeeze through a really tight spot to get here, so their faces look like this.” Pasha presses his hands to either side of his face until his cheeks and lips puff out.

Oh my God.

I have to cover my mouth with my hand before I do an absolute spit take all over the father of my child. Who is this man?!

I swear, I’ve never met this Pasha before. He laughs when Gentry mimics him, and the two start making weird sounds and talking to each other through squished mouths until Gentry dissolves into a fit of giggles.

Mel looks at me, every bit as flabbergasted as I am.

Jameson rolls his eyes with a chuckle and scoops up my sweet little niece, Max, so she can come see the baby. Even though she’s only two years old, her eyes widen when she sees Taty’s face and she gasps. “Oh! So pretty!”

Cue the chorus of “awww”s in the room. I hold up Taty a little more so she can get a better look. “Pretty baby?”

Max nods and reaches out to touch her tiny button nose. “Pretty baby. So pretty.”

My heart is so full. It’s been a day of rest and intermittent visits, starting with Pasha’s mother and her… friend? If that’s what we’re calling him?

And not long after they left to grab some breakfast, Sofi and Mak stopped by to check in and coo at Taty.

Now, my sister and brother-in-law are here with their children. To be surrounded by love and family… what more could I want? This is all I’ve ever dreamed of.

I finally have it.

Taty starts to fuss, her telltale whimpers the only warning before the squalling begins. She’s probably sleepy since Pasha just changed her and a nurse gave her some formula to supplement our breastfeeding misadventures.

“We’ll head on out,” Mel says to me as she herds Gentry away from the bassinet. “I’ll give you a call and see how you’re doing later.”

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