Page 91 of Bratva King's Secret Twins

“No. Sho has a life debt to Aleksandr. We will be cashing that in now.”

Matsumoto shakes his head in disappointment, but he doesn’t spare a glance at Sho or me. He turns away, my gun still trained on the back of his head. After a few steps towards the towncar I didn’t even notice was there, he pauses and looks at me over his shoulder. “A lesson for you from a father who doesn’t want you dead. Next time you pull a gun on a man like me, kill me, no deals, no hesitation.”

45

NIKOLAI

Right after the Yakuza left, Nikolai collapsed and was dragged into the SUV where I waited, trembling next to an unconscious Boris. A Japanese man with piercings and tattoos who Aleksandr referred to as Sho sat chained to the door while Nadia held a gun to his head.

The next couple of hours are a blur of us rushing to the Italian Mafia’s safe house where a doctor met us and took care of Nikolai. Once he was stable and both prisoners were secured, we made our way back to the mainland and swiftly placed a drugged up Nikolai in his bedroom in Manhattan. It’s been almost fourteen hours since the stand off with Boris, but I can’t move. I haven’t left his side once, even when everyone told me to take a shower, to eat, to see the twins. I just shook my head and stared at Nikolai.

Even as Taylor, Kelsey and David cried, telling me that they were so worried and that they loved me. I mindlessly hugged them back and then made my way back to Nikolai.

I am staring at him right now, sitting at his bedside, watching his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath. My hands clean with hand sanitizer and a pack of baby wipes by my side. At some point, I will need a shower. I will need food, but that can be dealt with after Nik wakes up.

Sweat glistens on his brow, and I reach over, gently wiping it away with a baby wipe in my hand. His skin is clammy, his face drawn tight with pain, and it kills me to see him like this—broken, battered, barely holding on.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “This is all my fault.”

The words hang in the air, unanswered, but I don’t stop. Maybe he can hear me, maybe not. It doesn’t matter. “You almost died because of me. I should’ve—" I stop, choking on my words.I should’ve told you. I should’ve told you everything.

My hand lingers on his forehead, tracing the lines of his face, and I can’t hold back the tears any longer. They fall, hot and silent, as I sit there, watching him fight for every breath. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

For a long time, it’s just the sound of his breathing, steady but too shallow. I wipe away more sweat, brushing his hair back from his face. He’s so still, it’s unnerving. I lean forward, resting my forehead against his arm, praying for him to wake up. To give me any sign that he’s still here with me.

As if hearing my silent plea, there’s a faint movement beneath my touch. His fingers twitch against the sheets, and then, slowly, his eyes flutter open. At first, it’s just a flicker, his lashes barely lifting, but then his gaze meets mine, and he smiles—a small, tired smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“Hey,” I whisper, my voice cracking. Relief washes over me so fast it feels like I might drown in it.

He blinks at me, his lips parting, but no words come at first. I can see the pain in his eyes, the exhaustion, but somehow he still manages to lift his hand and reach for mine. I take it, squeezing tightly.

I wipe away the fresh tears that spill down my cheeks, trying to pull myself together. “I—I need to tell your siblings. Let them know you’re awake.” I stand, about to turn toward the door, but his grip on my hand tightens. “Nik?”

“Wait,” he murmurs, his voice rough, strained. “I need to tell you something.”

My stomach drops, and a wave of nausea ripples through me. If he wants to yell at me about the twins, or about leaving the penthouse knowing the danger we were in, that can wait until I’ve at least seen him awake for five minutes. “We can talk about it later, okay? You should rest. I should-”

“No.” He squeezes my hand again, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart skip. “I need to say this now.”

His words are slow, deliberate, like he’s fighting against the weight of unconsciousness pulling him back under. I sit back down, anxiety prickling at the edges of my thoughts. “Nik, you’re hurt?—”

“I love you.”

The words hit me harder than any blow. I freeze, staring at him in disbelief. “What?”

“I love you,” he says again, his voice firmer this time, thoughstill laced with pain. “And it killed me…to think…that you could’ve died without me saying that.”

I can’t breathe. Tears burn my eyes, blurring my vision as his words sink in. He loves me. After everything—after the secrets, the lies, the danger—he loves me. And I almost lost him without knowing.

I try to speak, but my voice catches in my throat. “I…I love you too.”

I can see the relief wash over him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and for a moment, it’s just us—no chaos, no danger. Just us.

The door creaks open, revealing two hesitant figures in the doorway. Mia and Gio stand there, looking almost unrecognizable with how much they had grown since I last saw them. Mia held onto her favorite stuffed rabbit, Mr. Floppy, tightly as her wide eyes take in the sight before them. Beside her, Gio nervously clutches Nadia's hand and his sharp gaze seems to size up the situation. His concern is evident as he takes in my greasy hair, swollen eye, and bruised face.

“Sorry, I couldn’t keep them away any longer.” Nadia offers me a small smile, releasing Gio’s hand in my direction.

“Mama?” Mia’s voice trembles, staring at me like she's trying to figure out what happened.

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