Page 64 of Secret Bratva Twins

Alyssa’s giggles grow louder, and she points at us, her expression completely unrepentant. “We switched places! Me and Leo! So you could snuggle.”

Chiara gasps, her jaw dropping slightly as her blush spreads down her neck. “You… you did what?”

Leo peeks out from behind Alyssa, his shy grin matching hers. “Alyssa said it was a good idea,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It was!” Alyssa declares proudly. “You two need more hugs. Grandma Kat says hugs make people happy!”

Chiara groans softly, burying her face in her hands. “Unbelievable,” she mutters.

I chuckle, sitting up and resting my arms on my knees as I glance between them. “Well, they’re not wrong,” I say, enjoying the way Chiara’s head snaps up, her glare fixed on me now.

“You’re not helping,” she hisses, though the corner of her mouth twitches as if she’s fighting a smile.

Alyssa takes a step closer, her hands on her hips in a comically serious pose. “Did it work? Are you happy now?”

Chiara presses her lips together, clearly torn between scolding them and laughing. “You two are impossible,” she says finally, shaking her head.

Leo tugs on Alyssa’s sleeve, whispering something I can’t hear. She nods enthusiastically before darting forward, climbing onto the bed with Leo following close behind.

“Breakfast now!” Alyssa announces, plopping herself between Chiara and me.

Leo crawls up onto Chiara’s lap, snuggling into her as she automatically wraps an arm around him. “Breakfast!” he echoes softly, his eyes still half lidded with sleep.

Chiara looks down at him, her expression softening. Whatever embarrassment she felt moments ago seems to melt away as she presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“Alright,” she says, her voice gentle. “Let’s get breakfast.”

Alyssa tugs on my sleeve. “Come on, Papa! You have to come too.”

I let out a mock sigh, ruffling her hair. “As if I have a choice,” I tease, earning a delighted giggle from her.

Chiara glances at me over Leo’s head, her gaze unreadable for a moment before she speaks. “You’re good with them,” she says quietly, almost to herself.

“Of course I am,” I reply, meeting her gaze steadily. “They’re my children too.”

Her eyes flicker with something—surprise, maybe, or something softer—and she nods, though she doesn’t say anything more.

The four of us make our way downstairs, the twins chattering about what they want for breakfast. Alyssa insists on pancakes, while Leo quietly requests fruit. Chiara, still flustered from earlier, moves through the motions with ease, her focus entirely on the children.

Soon, the kitchen is alive with the warm scent of coffee brewing and the soft hum of morning activity. Chiara moves with practiced grace, pulling out ingredients as Alyssa tugs at her arm, insisting she help with the pancakes. Leo hovers near the counter, his small fingers gripping the edge as he watches quietly.

“I can mix it!” Alyssa announces, holding up a wooden spoon like a badge of honor.

Chiara smiles, her earlier flustered demeanor replaced by the calm patience she reserves for the twins. “Alright, but only if you promise to be careful.”

“I promise,” Alyssa chirps, already climbing onto the stool Chiara sets up for her.

I lean against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold. There’s something grounding about the way Chiara moves, her attention split between managing Alyssa’s overzealous stirring and slicing fruit for Leo. She glances back at me once, her brow arching slightly as if to say,Are you just going to stand there?

I step into the room, rolling up my sleeves. “Let me help.”

“You?” she asks, her tone teasing. “I didn’t think Serge Sharov knew his way around a kitchen.”

I smirk, grabbing the bowl of pancake batter from Alyssa before she tips it over. “I know more than you think.”

Alyssa giggles as I guide her tiny hands to hold the spoon properly, steadying the bowl as she mixes. Leo watches intently, a small smile creeping onto his face.

Chiara places a plate of sliced fruit in front of Leo and then leans against the counter, arms crossed as she watches us. Her eyes soften, and for a moment, the tension from the morning fades.

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