Page 62 of Secret Bratva Twins

“The twins couldn’t sleep,” she explains, running her fingers through Leo’s soft hair. “Alyssa insisted they stay here, and, well….”

“She said the bed is bigger,” Alyssa pipes up, grinning at me. “And you wouldn’t mind.”

I smirk faintly, moving to the edge of the bed. “Oh, she did, did she?”

“Uh-huh,” Alyssa says, nodding vigorously. Then, with all the innocence only a child can muster, she pats the empty spot beside her. “Come sit, Papa. Mama’s reading a story.”

I glance at Chiara, half expecting her to protest, but she doesn’t. Instead, she shifts slightly to make room.

I sigh softly, more out of habit than resistance, and lower myself onto the bed. Alyssa immediately scoots closer, leaning against my side as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“What’s the story?” I ask, my voice quieter now.

“It’s about a family of bears,” Chiara replies, holding up the book briefly before continuing. Her voice softens as she picks up where she left off, her tone lilting and soothing.

I don’t pay much attention to the story itself. Instead, I watch her. The way her lips move as she speaks. The way her hands gesture subtly with the rhythm of the words. The way she glances down at Leo every so often, her expression tender as he blinks sleepily up at her.

She’s beautiful like this, at ease in a way I rarely see.

Alyssa nestles closer into my side, her small hand resting on my arm. The weight of her trust, her warmth, settles over me like a blanket I didn’t know I needed. Leo shifts in Chiara’s lap, his eyelids drooping as he fights the pull of sleep.

By the time Chiara finishes the story, Leo has succumbed, his small body curled tightly against her. Alyssa, too, is beginning to fade, her head lolling onto my shoulder. Chiara closes the book gently, setting it on the nightstand, and leans back against the pillows, her arms still wrapped protectively around Leo.

“You’re good with them,” I say quietly, the words slipping out before I can think better of them.

Her eyes flick to mine, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she gives a small smile. “They’re my world,” she replies softly.

I don’t respond immediately. Instead, I glance down at Alyssa, who’s now completely asleep against me, her soft breaths steady and peaceful. For a moment, the weight of the day, the meetings, and even the looming tension of Chiara’s family legacy fade into the background.

“You bring them peace,” I say after a moment, my voice low.

Chiara’s eyes soften, but she doesn’t reply. Instead, she leans her head back against the headboard, her gaze fixed on Leo’s sleeping face. Her own exhaustion begins to show, her eyelids fluttering as sleep pulls at her.

I watch as she finally gives in, her head tilting slightly to the side, her arms still cradling Leo protectively. She looks vulnerable like this, her features unguarded and serene. It stirs something deep inside me, something I can’t quite name.

I shift slightly, adjusting Alyssa in my arms so she’s more comfortable. Her small frame feels so fragile, yet she clings to me with the kind of trust I’ve never known. I glance back at Chiara, at the way her body curls instinctively around Leo even in sleep, and a strange sense of fulfillment washes over me.

I’ve built my life on power, control, and dominance. Yet, here, in this quiet moment, surrounded by my family—my family—I feel something I haven’t felt in years. Peace.

It’s unsettling in its simplicity. I’m not used to feeling this way, to letting my guard down even for a second. As Alyssa snuggles closer and Chiara breathes softly beside me, I find myself leaning back, allowing the warmth of the moment to seep in.

Chiara stirs beside me, her lashes fluttering briefly before her eyes open, hazy and half lidded with sleep. She looks at me, her gaze soft and unguarded in the dim light. For a moment, neither of us says anything, the quiet in the room broken only by the steady breathing of the children.

“You’re still awake,” she whispers, her voice low and thick with exhaustion.

I nod, my gaze flicking to Alyssa nestled against my side before returning to her. “So are you.”

Her lips curve into a faint smile, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m trying not to wake them.”

“They’re out,” I reply softly, shifting just enough to adjust Alyssa’s weight without disturbing her. “You could probably shout, and they wouldn’t budge.”

Chiara lets out a quiet laugh, the sound warm and soft, curling around me like the scent of her perfume lingering in the air. It’s intoxicating, the way she seems so at ease, so different from the sharp edges she wears during the day.

“I didn’t expect you to stay,” she murmurs after a moment, her gaze flicking down to Leo as her fingers gently brush his hair.

“I didn’t plan to,” I admit, my voice equally quiet. “You… and them… it’s hard to leave.”

She looks up at me again, something unreadable in her expression. There’s a flicker of vulnerability there, and it stirs something deep within me, something I’ve spent years burying.

---