Page 148 of Mile High Daddy

Tears burn my eyes. “I don’t care. I need to see them. Are they—” My throat closes. “Are they really okay?”

His expression softens.

“They’re perfect,” he murmurs. “Tiny, but fighters.”

My chest tightens.

“What…what are they?” My voice breaks.

Mikhail’s lips twitch, his fingers brushing over my cheek.

“Twin boys,kiska.”

I suck in a breath.

Twin boys.

A sob wrenches from my chest.

Mikhail leans closer, cradling my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears before they can fall. “They’re waiting for you,” he whispers. “But they’re safe. And they’re ours. And you’ll see them soon, I promise.” He strokes his thumb over my hand, watching me carefully as I try to calm my racing thoughts. “Rest,kiska,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost soothing. “The nurse will take you to see them later.”

I want to argue. I need to see them now. But exhaustion pulls at me, my body still weak from everything it’s been through.

Mikhail must see my hesitation because he leans in, pressing a kiss to my damp forehead.

“They’ll be there when you wake up,” he whispers.

I close my eyes, the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingers the last thing I remember before sleep claims me.

When I wake again, the room is dimly lit, and Mikhail is no longer beside me.

Instead, my mother is sitting near the bed, a soft smile on her lips. Mikhail is on the couch, his lips drawn into a line. But at least his head wound is covered.

“Mom.” My voice is hoarse, but she reaches for my hand, squeezing it tightly.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” she says. “How are you feeling?”

Before I can answer, I notice another figure standing near the doorway.

Alex.

Or…Alexei?

The sight of him stirs something deep in my chest—confusion, frustration, and a dozen unanswered questions.

I sit up too fast and groan as pain lances through my abdomen. Mikhail rises and places a firm hand on my shoulder. “Slow down,” he mutters.

I barely hear him. My gaze is locked on Alex. I turn fully toward him, trying to sit up, ignoring the dull ache in my body.

“So…are you Alex or Alexei?”

A beat of silence.

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck.

“About that—” my mom starts, but I cut her off, turning to face her instead.

“You know him?”

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