Page 34 of Secret Bratva Twins

Leo’s expression shifts, the faintest flicker of hope crossing his face. He nods, his grip on Alyssa’s hand tightening.

“Then be good,” I say simply. “She’ll be happy to see you too.”

Alyssa manages a smile, and her little shoulders relax. They’re warming to me.

The road stretches out ahead of us, long and empty. I keep one eye on the rearview mirror, watching their reflections. They’re so small, so fragile, yet there’s something about themthat feels unbreakable. It’s in the way they hold on to each other, an unspoken bond that nothing—not even me—can sever.

I focus on the road, pushing down the strange mix of emotions swirling in my chest. They’re mine. My blood. Whether they know it yet or not, I’ll protect them. Even if that means keeping them away from their mother. For now.

The engine hums steadily as the Montana landscape blurs past. The children remain silent, their fear hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break.

Chapter Fourteen - Chiara

Roman escorts me from the suffocating darkness of the room, his hand firmly gripping my arm as he leads me down the hall. The change in environment is stark, the living room bathed in muted sunlight spilling through drawn curtains. My mind races, a thousand scenarios flashing before me. Are they taking me away? Ending this once and for all? I can’t decide which option frightens me more.

I glance at Roman, his face unreadable as ever. His silence only amplifies the dread curling in my chest. My breath hitches when the front door opens, the heavy sound of boots signaling Serge’s arrival. He steps into the room, his presence commanding and cold as usual.

Then I see them.

Leo and Alyssa, standing just behind him. My heart stops, a mixture of relief and terror rushing through me like a tidal wave. They’re here, they’re safe. Before I can fully process it, Leo’s eyes light up, and both children dart toward me.

“Mommy!”

I drop to my knees, pulling them into my arms, holding them so tightly I can feel their little hearts beating against mine. Tears burn in my eyes as I bury my face in their soft hair, whispering their names over and over. “Oh, my babies. My babies.”

Their chatter is a blur of words and laughter as they cling to me. I smooth back Alyssa’s blonde curls, kissing the top of her head, before cupping Leo’s face, checking for any signs of harm. They’re unharmed, thank God.

Then Leo looks at me with those wide blue eyes—the ones that mirror Serge’s so perfectly—and says something that freezes the breath in my lungs.

“Mommy, why didn’t you ever introduce us to our dad?”

I blink, staring at him, my brain struggling to catch up. “What?”

Leo grins, nodding enthusiastically toward Serge, who stands behind them, his hands tucked into his pockets. Alyssa pipes up, her voice cheerful and sweet. “I wasn’t sure at first, but he’s so nice, Mommy! He drove us here and everything.”

My gaze snaps to Serge, confusion and anger bubbling to the surface. His expression is infuriatingly calm, but there’s something else in his eyes. Something softer, more human, as he watches the twins. I don’t know whether to scream at him or collapse into tears.

“Serge,” I manage, my voice trembling with barely contained fury. “What is this? What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he steps closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over the three of us. Leo looks up at him with pure admiration, as though Serge is some kind of hero, while Alyssa clings to my side, smiling shyly.

“They’re mine,” Serge says finally, his voice low and resolute. “You can’t deny it. Look at them.”

I shake my head, holding my children closer. “You had no right to—”

“No right?” His tone sharpens, his eyes narrowing. “You kept them from me. My own blood. You think you’re the victim here, Chiara?”

“They’re children,” I snap, my voice cracking. “They don’t deserve this life. Your life.”

“Yet,” he says, crouching slightly to meet my gaze, “they deserve to know who they are. Where they come from.”

His words land with the weight of a gavel, but before I can respond, Alyssa tugs on my sleeve. “Mommy, can we stay with him? He’s really nice. He let us listen to music in the car.”

My chest tightens painfully. She’s too young to understand the implications, the danger. To her, Serge is just a tall, strong man who let her pick the songs on the radio. She doesn’t know the darkness that surrounds him, the blood on his hands.

I glance at Leo, who’s watching Serge with the same awe. He doesn’t speak, but his silence is louder than any words.

Serge straightens, towering over us once more. “We’ll talk later, Chiara. For now, let them enjoy this moment.”

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