Page 26 of Bratva King's Secret Twins

He raises his hands up, revealing his right hand, which is missing his thumb and middle finger, a crazed smile on his lips. “This time, take the ring. I’ll bleed more.”

Nadia shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“Nadia,” I warn, my voice stern and sharp.

“No, if you can keep secrets from me, then I do not have to be a part of this,” she huffs, pushing off her wall. “Neither will Aleksandr.”

“This is why we don’t allow women into the mafia,” Boris sighs. “You’re too emotional.”

Nadia storms across the room, snatching the knife out of his hand, and throws it perfectly into Boris’s shoulder. He grits his teeth, looking down at where the knife is lodged in his right shoulder. Laughter bubbles in his chest, and I look over at Nadia. Her lips twist into a snarl, her eyes wide, and her brows furrowed. She looks like she wants to vomit.

“Go,” I command firmly.

“I can do it, Nik,” Aleksandr responds, unfazed by anything that happened.

“No.” I flex my arms in front of me. “He’s all mine.”

12

GWEN

Idrag my feet behind me as I walk from the bus stop to Mia and Gio’s after-school program. The only thing on my mind is the countdown to my next shift. I have three hours to get them home, shower, change, and get to work. Maybe Nana is right. I don’t have enough time. I am working myself into an early grave, but if I don’t work, no one will, and then all of our lives will be on the line.

The sound of children laughing makes me smile, erasing the tired expression that Gio will surely see the minute he looks at me. I approach their teacher, a smiley young woman with honey-blonde hair, thick black frames, and an unlimited collection of rainbow dresses.

“Hey, Mrs. Taylors, I’m here for Mia,” I say, smiling as I look around for her blonde curls.

Mrs. Taylors looks at me with a confused expression. “Ms. Sharp, didn’t you send your friend to pick Mia up?”

My heart skips a beat, a cold wave of panic washingover me. “No, I didn’t send anyone,” I reply, my voice trembling slightly. “What friend? Who picked her up?”

Mrs. Taylors’ face pales. “A man came by about an hour ago. Last night, he was added to the system to be on the approved pick-up list.”

I look at her with wild eyes. “What?”

“Yes, he is under the friend category and uploaded everything needed to be an official pick-up.”

“I’m sorry, can I?” I ask, reaching out for her tablet, dread settling in the pit of my stomach.

“He said his name was Mason,” she answers, her eyes wide with concern. The name sends a shiver down my spine. Mason, the leader of the mob my father owes money to. The man who wants me to be his. He wasn’t supposed to know I have a child. He wasn’t supposed to know where we moved to.

I stare at the photo and ID that were uploaded into the pick-up system. His straight, thick, black hair is pulled into a man bun with two thick braids in the front. His black eyes, which look like the pits of hell, glitter, and his lips are curved into a knowing, lazy smirk that makes my body feel like ice.

I try to steady my breathing, my mind racing. “Yes, of course, I remember. It’s just mom brain,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Sorry for the panic.”

Mrs. Taylors nods, a wave of relief washing over her features as she digs in her pocket. “He told me to give you this if you forgot he was doing pick up. He said that as your new boyfriend, he wanted to take some things off your plate, and I thought that was the sweetestthing in the world.”

I give her a tight smile. “I know, he’s the best.” She hands me a neatly folded note, and I unravel it so quickly I almost give myself a paper cut:

“Meet you at home, Pretty Girl.”

I rush to the opposite building where Gio has his gifted classes, my mind racing a mile a minute. Mason wouldn’t hurt a child. He’s trying to scare me, but I bet he doesn’t know I have two children because Gio is in a gifted part of the school with a completely different system.

I sprint towards Gio’s classroom, my thoughts a blur of fear and anger. Mason has Mia. I have to get her back, but first, Gio. I have to make sure Gio is safe.

As I reach Gio’s classroom, I see him sitting at a table, hunched over a book. He looks up and beams when he sees me, but his smile fades when he notices the panic in my eyes.

“Mommy, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice small and worried.

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