Page 55 of Bratva King's Secret Twins

But then he surprises me by nodding slowly. “Fine. You can have your own room.”

I blink, not expecting him to give in so easily. “Really?”

“Yes. You can have this room.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “But on one condition.”

Here it comes, I think. Here comes the line that makes me say, screw it, and jump into his arms. “What’s the catch?”

“You sleep in my bed five nights out of theweek. The other two nights, you can have your space.” His voice is firm, leaving little room for negotiation.

Five nights? That’s a compromise, sure, but still a significant demand. I cross my arms over my chest, trying to think it through. Can I live with that? Can I do that and still save myself? Can I still save him from the danger of Mason? And would that be enough time to hide the existence of Gio and Mia from him until I know we’re all safe?

“You’re not really giving me much of a choice, are you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him. My heart is pounding against my chest feverishly.

He shrugs, his lips curling into that devilish smirk that always sets my nerves on edge. “It’s the best offer you’re going to get, Kotik.”

I huff out a breath, knowing I have to pick my battles. “Three nights,” I counter, lifting my chin defiantly. “I get my own space for three nights a week.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You’re negotiating with me?”

“I was a top law student, Nik. Bargaining is second nature to me.”

He chuckles softly, his eyes gleaming with admiration—or was it amusement? I can’t tell with him sometimes. “Alright, Gwen. Three nights.”

It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I nod, trying to hide the relief that washes over me. “Good. Then it’s settled.”

He takes a step closer, his voice lowering to that husky tone that always makes my knees weak. “But don’t think for asecond that you’re free from me those nights, Kotik. You may have your space, but you’re still mine.”

The way he says it sends a ripple of goosebumps across my skin. I’m playing a dangerous game with a man who could so easily consume me, body and soul. But as I look into his intense oceanic eyes, I know one thing for certain—I’ll do anything to keep him safe, even if that means losing the one man I think I could love.

“Don’t worry, Nik,” I reply, my voice in that evenly confident lawyer tone. “I’ll remind you of that when I’m the one calling the shots.”

His grin widens, and for the first time, I see a flash of something more in his eyes—respect, maybe. Or perhaps it’s just the thrill of the challenge. Either way, I steel my shoulders and look at him head-on.

Nikolai leans in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, “I look forward to it.”

28

GWEN

The first night, I kicked Nikolai out of my room. He had the nerve to pout, his sharp eyes narrowing as he assessed me, gauging how serious I was. But he listened—probably calculating that letting me win this small battle would just ensure his victory in the long run. He left, but not without a final glance over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips like he knew I’d eventually come crawling back. I hated that he was probably right.

After the door clicked shut behind him, I collapsed onto the bed, curling into a ball. I gnawed at the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, the metallic tang mingling with the guilt gnawing at me even more ferociously. The guilt felt like a weight pressing down on my chest—suffocating, relentless. Because even if Nikolai knew, in some twisted way, that we were on the same side—both of us fighting for a version of “us”—he’d still see me as the enemy.

He didn’t realize the real battle wasn’t against him, but against demons from my past. Against Mason. I was the only one with the vantage point to keep everyone safe, even if it meantlocking myself up in this castle built from my father’s debts. But how could he ever understand that when I was hiding so much from him?

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I’d see flashes of what I was doing to him—hiding his children, pretending to be someone I wasn’t, making him believe I didn’t want him. And for what? Just to buy time so I could pay off Mason and disappear? The logic was sound, but the emotional toll was unbearable.

The second night, I fell asleep on the couch before Nikolai got home from a business meeting. I woke up wrapped in a cream blanket, my head resting on his lap, his hand halfway through a caress in my hair. He was fast asleep, looking almost innocent. In the morning, I told him I counted that as a night of him not being in my room. He playfully said he should’ve let me freeze on the couch.

Later, Taylor called, threatening to file a missing persons report if I didn’t respond. I joked that Prince Charming had stolen me away to his dragon’s lair, but Taylor didn’t find it funny. He demanded lunch on Sunday, and now I have no idea how to tell Nik without him insisting on tagging along to sulk through the meal—or worse, threatening Taylor for daring to touch what he considers his.

Tonight, I decided to keep myself occupied with logic exercises from the LSAT, sitting cross-legged on the plush cream rug in my room. It was the kind of challenge that distracted me from counting the five grand I’d saved up—cash hidden away in secret compartments, safely out of Nikolai’s sight. At this rate, I could be done paying off Mason in four, maybe five years. By then, the twins would be eight or nine. I’d be in my mid-thirties. Would Nik still wait for me? Maybe I’d dramatically reveal our kids to him on their sixteenth birthday—or leave a noteexplaining everything once I’m long gone, escaping to California to avoid his wrath. A wrath that only grows the longer I keep this secret.

But deep down,I know I’m playing a dangerous game. Nik is patient, but that patience has limits, and every day I keep this secret will chip away at the trust he’s already unsure of. It’s like a time bomb ticking away, and I can’t help but wonder how much longer I have before everything explodes.

“Fuck,” I growl when I realizing that I did the math wrong. I lean back into the plush carpet, wishing Nik would have let me work atJohanna’stonight; maybe then I could blow off some real steam.

Surprisingly, Nikolai hasn’t stopped me from working at Johanna’s, though he hovers around the bar area 90% of the time and refuses to let me take private shows where the real money is. He even joked that if I was that desperate for cash, he’d pay for a dance himself. But that’s the thing—I want to tell him sooner than in five years. That’s why I’ve been pushing to work every night shift I can.

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