Page 46 of Accidental Bratva Daddy

"I love you," I whisper into the darkness. “I meant it, Luka. Not just in the heat of the moment, but always.” I feel Luka tense slightly, and for a moment I fear I've said too much, too soon.

But then his arms tighten around me, and he presses a kiss to my temple. "Sleep, my love," he murmurs. "Tomorrow we start our new life. Together."

As I drift off in his embrace, I realize that despite the pain and betrayal of tonight, I feel oddly at peace. Viktor's arrest marks the end of an era, but also the beginning of something new—something honest and real and ours.

For the first time since this all began, I let myself believe in the future Luka promises. A future where our children will grow up safe and loved, where we can build something legitimate and lasting from the ashes of our old lives.

But as sleep claims me, a small voice in the back of my mind whispers a warning: in our world, nothing is ever quite that simple. And morning might bring challenges we never expected.

For now though, I push those thoughts aside and burrow deeper into Luka's warmth. Whatever comes next, we'll face it together. As a family.

That has to be enough.

25

Luka

The soft glow of candlelight dances across crystal glasses and fine china as I watch Natalia's family gather in our dining room. The scene before me feels almost surreal—Elena arranging flowers in an antique vase, Alina helping Natalia set the table, their laughter echoing through the space like music. After everything we've been through, this simple moment of domestic peace feels like a miracle.

My wife moves with natural grace between her mother and sister, her dress highlighting the subtle curve of her stomach where our twins grow. She's radiant tonight, happiness lighting her from within. Every so often, her eyes find mine across the room, and the love I see there still takes my breath away.

"The table looks beautiful, girls," Elena says, adjusting a place setting with practiced precision. Her silver-blonde hair catches the light as she works, reminding me of the society photographs I'd seen of her in her prime. She carries herself with the sameelegant poise, but there's a warmth to her now that was absent in those glossy magazine shots.

After a few minutes, Elena drifts over to where I stand near the window. Her blue eyes—so like Natalia's—study me with an intensity that reminds me of her late husband.

"Thank you, Luka," she says softly, her voice thick with emotion. "For saving Natalia, for protecting all of us." She pauses, blinking back tears. "I don't know what we would have done if..."

The words trail off, but I understand what she can't say. If Viktor had succeeded. If we'd lost Natalia. If our family had been destroyed before it truly began.

I shake my head gently, keeping my expression calm despite the surge of protective instinct her words trigger. "Igor was a good man," I tell her, meaning every word. "He would have done the same for you all." I glance toward Natalia, watching as she arranges silverware with meticulous care. "That's why we're naming our son after him."

Elena's sharp intake of breath draws my attention back to her. Tears fill her eyes as the weight of my words sinks in. For a long moment, she simply stares at me, one hand pressed to her heart. Then, with a small nod of approval, she steps forward and pulls me into an embrace.

The gesture catches me off guard. I can't remember the last time someone other than Natalia hugged me. But Elena's gratitude is sincere, her acceptance of me as part of her family clear in this simple act. Awkwardly, I return the embrace, patting her back gently.

When we return to the dining room, Natalia and Alina are just finishing with the place settings. Their heads are bent togetheras they work, auburn and chestnut hair mingling as they share some private joke. The sight makes something warm unfurl in my chest—my wife reconnecting with her sister, healing the rifts that Viktor's machinations created.

"They're naming him Igor," Elena announces, her voice still thick with emotion.

Alina's head snaps up, her eyes widening with delight. "Really?" She looks between Natalia and me, practically bouncing with excitement. "That's perfect! But what about your daughter? What will you name her?"

Natalia's eyes meet mine across the table, a soft smile playing at her lips.

"Nadezhda," Natalia says, her hand drifting to her stomach. "It means 'hope' in Russian."

"Hope," Alina repeats softly, testing the name. "It's beautiful."

As we take our seats for dinner, the conversation flows naturally toward the future. Natalia shares her vision for a new clothing line, her face animated as she describes sustainable, affordable baby clothes that will be accessible to families across Russia.

"The market is saturated with either cheap, disposable items or ridiculously expensive designer pieces," she explains, her passion for the project evident in every word. "I want to create something in between—beautiful, well-made clothes that regular families can afford. An ode to the old world, to Russia before the world became so complex.”

"It's brilliant," Alina chimes in. "Especially with the focus on sustainability. That's becoming huge in the fashion world."

I watch Natalia's eyes light up as she outlines her plans, and I can't help but smile. This is the woman I fell in love with—brilliant, driven, always thinking of ways to make the world better.

"Luka has agreed to be my primary investor," she adds, flashing me a grateful smile. "Now that he's retired, he's looking for legitimate business ventures to support."

Elena's eyebrows rise slightly at the word 'retired,' but she says nothing. We all know what I'm retiring from, but some things are better left unspoken, especially on a night like tonight, when we can all celebrate and come together.

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