Page 72 of Secret Bratva Twins

Leo is quieter but no less thrilled, his small hands gently petting the puppy’s soft fur. “Is he ours?” he asks, looking up at Serge with wide, hopeful eyes.

“He’s yours,” Serge says, crouching down to their level. “You’ll have to take care of him, though. He’s a big responsibility.”

The twins nod solemnly, though Alyssa’s beaming smile gives away her excitement. “We will! Right, Leo?”

Leo nods, his small fingers stroking the puppy’s ears. “What’s his name?”

“That’s up to you,” Serge says, his voice softening.

I stand off to the side, watching the scene unfold, a mix of emotions swirling within me. The puppy is adorable—soft brown fur, floppy ears, and the kind of boundless energy only a young dog has. But I’m also stunned. A labrador puppy. It’s such a big commitment, and while I’d considered getting one eventually, it hadn’t been on my immediate list of priorities.

Back in Montana, raising the twins alone had been enough of a challenge. Adding a dog to the mix had seemed impossible at the time. Now, though, things are different.

“They love him already,” Katya murmurs beside me, her smile widening as she watches the twins.

“They do,” I reply, my voice quieter. “It’s just… a lot.”

“Serge knows what he’s doing,” she says knowingly. “He’s thought this through. The children are thriving now. This is just another step toward building a life together.”

Her words settle heavily in my chest. She’s right—the twins are happier, more secure, and Serge is a big part of that.It’s not just his presence; it’s the way he’s thrown himself into their lives with such determination and care.

Serge glances over at me then, catching my eye. His expression softens, and for a moment, it’s just the two of us in the crowded room. I give him a small nod, and he smirks, clearly pleased with himself.

Alyssa’s voice snaps me back to the present. “Mama, look at him,” she calls, holding the squirming puppy up for me to see. “Isn’t he the cutest?”

I smile, walking over to crouch beside her. “He’s very cute,” I say, running my fingers through the puppy’s soft fur. “Do you have a name for him yet?”

“We’re thinking,” Alyssa says, her brow furrowing in concentration.

“We’ll decide soon,” Leo adds, his voice quiet but sure.

Serge stands behind me, his hand brushing lightly against my shoulder as he leans down. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice low enough for only me to hear.

“I think you’ve completely spoiled them,” I reply, though there’s no heat in my tone.

“They deserve it,” he says simply, his gaze fixed on the twins.

As I watch them play with their new puppy, their laughter filling the room, I can’t help but agree. This is what I wanted for them—a sense of family, of joy. Unexpectedly, Serge has given it to them.

And to me.

The sound of the twins’ laughter fills the air, blending with the playful barks of their new puppy. I stand to the side, watching Alyssa and Leo chase the energetic ball of fur around the room, their joy infectious. For a moment, everything feelsperfect. The house feels like a home, alive with warmth and love, something I never thought possible not long ago.

As I soak in the moment, Serge appears beside me, his presence commanding even when he’s quiet. His hand brushes against mine, a light, deliberate touch that sends a shiver through me. I glance up at him, and his smirk softens into something more sincere.

“Come with me,” he murmurs, his voice low and private.

I hesitate, my gaze flickering back to the twins, but Katya steps in before I can say anything, her calm smile reassuring. “I’ll keep an eye on them,” she says, already moving toward the children.

Serge doesn’t give me a chance to argue, his hand slipping into mine as he leads me out of the room and down the hall. The buzz of the party fades behind us, replaced by the quiet intimacy of the dimly lit corridor. He stops near the large bay windows overlooking the garden, the soft glow of string lights outside casting shadows across his sharp features.

“Serge, what—”

Before I can finish, his hands cup my face, and he kisses me. It’s not the urgent, fiery kiss of our past; this one is softer, deeper, laced with an affection that makes my heart ache. My hands rest on his chest, his steady heartbeat thrumming beneath my palms as he draws me closer.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, and his breath warms my lips. “I can’t wait for more,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

“More?” I ask, still catching my breath.

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