Page 36 of Accidental Bratva Daddy

The nursery catches my eye through the open door—the beautiful space we've created for our children, filled with love and hope and possibilities. A flash of uncertainty makes my chest tight. I want my children to know their family, all of it. But with so many secrets and lies between us, is that even possible?

My phone buzzes, making me jump. With trembling fingers, I reach for it, both eager and afraid to see the response. But before I can check, a shadow falls across the doorway.

Luka stands there, his expression unreadable as he watches me. Has he been there long? Did he see me texting Viktor? And why does the thought fill me with such unease?

"Everything okay?" I ask, trying to keep my voice light.

Luka's eyes soften as they meet mine, but there's something else there too—something dark and worried that makes my heart skip a beat.

"Everything's fine, darling," he says, crossing the room to pull me into his arms. "Just business."

I lean into his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent. But I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong, that there are storm clouds gathering on our horizon.

For now, though, I push those thoughts aside. Today should be about joy, about Igor and Nadezhda, about the family we're building together. Tomorrow will bring what it brings.

But as I rest my head against Luka's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, I can't help but wonder: what price will we pay for this happiness? And when our two worlds inevitably collide, will our love be strong enough to weather the storm?

18

Luka

The clink of fine china and silverware echoes through the dining room as my staff serves the first course. I sit at the head of the massive oak table, acutely aware of Elena Orlova's frosty gaze tracking my every movement. She hasn't spoken more than a handful of words since arriving with Alina, but her disapproval radiates like winter wind off the Volga.

Natalia sits to my right, her eyes bright but tainted with something neither of us can get rid of. Her hand occasionally finds mine under the table, squeezing gently when her mother's stares become particularly pointed. The gesture grounds me, reminding me why I'm subjecting myself to this excruciating exercise in familial diplomacy.

"The borscht is excellent," I offer, breaking another stretch of uncomfortable silence. "Natalia has been teaching our chef some traditional recipes."

"Has she?" Elena's voice could freeze hell itself. Her spoon clinks against her bowl with precise, measured movements. "How... domestic. I remember when my daughter had bigger ambitions than playing house."

Natalia tenses beside me. "Mama, please?—"

"No," Elena cuts her off, setting down her spoon with a sharp click that makes both Alina and Natalia flinch. "I've held my tongue long enough. I don't trust a man who marries my daughter in secret. Who sweeps in out of nowhere and turns her whole life upside down, making her give up so much for so little.”

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. Getting defensive will only make things worse. "I understand why you feel that way," I say, keeping my voice sincere and steady. "We kept things quiet because, at the time, there were... threats. I needed to keep Natalia safe, and the fewer people who knew, the better." I glance at my wife, finding strength in her grateful smile, then back to her mother. "But I'm sorry that we hurt you in the process. That was never my intention."

Elena shakes her head, her carefully styled silver-blonde hair catching the light from the crystal chandelier above. "You talk about protection, about safety. But where was that protection when my husband was killed? When my family was torn apart?" She laughs bitterly, the sound like breaking glass. "It's bad enough I stumbled upon Igor's safe, found those documents about Kirill Baranov. I couldn't even bring myself to look at them properly—I knew they'd be incriminating."

My blood runs cold at her words. Igor's safe? Documents about Kirill? Something isn't adding up. I know for a fact that Igor wasn't the one with ties to Kirill—that was all Viktor.Could Elena have discovered something without realizing its significance? If I could only find out what they say…

Before I can pursue this thread, Natalia's hand finds mine again. Her palm is warm against my skin, trembling slightly. "Mama," she says softly. "We have something to tell you." She looks at me, and I nod encouragingly. "I'm pregnant. With twins."

The silence that follows is deafening. I can hear the tick of the antique grandfather clock in the corner, counting off endless seconds. Alina is the first to react, her eyes lighting up with pure joy.

"Twins?" she exclaims, practically bouncing in her seat. The fine crystal glasses rattle as she claps her hands together in excitement. "Oh my God, I'm going to be an aunt! This is amazing! When are you due? Do you know what you're having? Have you picked names? I have a few suggestions!”

Her rapid-fire questions break some of the tension, and for a moment, I see a glimmer of the close-knit family Natalia has told me about. But Elena remains still, tears welling in her eyes as she stares at her daughter.

"Excuse me," she says abruptly, her chair scraping against the hardwood floor as she rises. "I need some air."

Natalia follows her mother onto the terrace, the French doors closing softly behind them. Through the glass panes, I watch as they talk, their silhouettes outlined against the setting sun. Natalia gestures animatedly while Elena stands rigid, her arms crossed tight over her chest.

"She'll come around," Alina says quietly, drawing my attention back to the table. "She's just... it's been hard, you know? AfterPapa..." She trails off, twisting her napkin in her lap. “Everything is just changing so fast.”

I open my mouth to respond, but movement in the doorway catches my eye. Dimitri, one of my most trusted men, hovers there with an urgent expression. I excuse myself from the table and join him in the hallway.

"Viktor's back in Moscow," he reports in a low voice. "His flight just landed at Sheremetyevo twenty minutes ago. Do we move forward with the hit?"

My eyes flick to Natalia on the terrace. Even from here, I can see the tension in her shoulders as she pleads with her mother. The timing couldn't be worse. "Not now," I reply, keeping my voice down. "Wait. He'll fall into our trap soon enough."

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