Page 82 of Innocent Bratva Twins

I scream, every muscle going taut and then pulsing, throbbing, releasing—

I can barely breathe.

Nico shifts off me, pulling me up against his chest again, the curve of my back fitting perfectly into him.

What if I just stayed here?

What if I never left, and I let him love me, and I was happy?

I close my eyes and wish—but no matter how hard I wish, the wish is tainted with reality, and that reality won’t wash away, no matter how hard I cry.

My baby doesn’t deserve this life.

If I make the choice to stay with him, I am making that same choice for my child, and that would not be fair of me to force them to grow up in a world I don’t understand.

The mafia is no place for children.

What kind of a mother would I be?

What kind of person would I be?

The sob shakes me, and Nico pulls me closer. “Angel?” he whispers.

“Nico, I can’t do this.” I cry.

I feel the shaky breath he takes. His body tenses, and he can’t speak.

I’m fighting every cell in my mind, every synapse firing and arguing and telling me I can’t do this. I can’t leave him. I can’t because it will destroy my heart.

But the truth is that if I stay, it will destroy the life of my baby. I will live in constant fear of something happening.

“What do you want, Serafina? What do you need?” he asks with pain in his voice as though he already knows what I’ll say.

“I need you to let me go,” I whisper, barely a sound, too soft to hear.

“I can’t—“ he’s crying. It shatters my heart.

“You have to.”

We don’t speak again, but we stay wrapped in each other until the morning light filters into his bedroom. These last moments with him will be forever etched into my memory. Into my heart.

For the last hours of the night, I’m still fighting with myself, wondering if I’m making the right choice. But no matter how I argue against my choice, my logic always wins over my heart, and I know I have to do the right thing for my baby.

Neither of us sleeps.

Not wanting to waste one second.

When the room is too bright to ignore, Nico gently kisses my neck.

“I’ll make us some tea. Then you can come downstairs, and we can decide our way forward.”

I nod. If I speak now, I’ll cry. I’ll tell him I’ve changed my mind.

But I can’t change my mind.

In the shower, I take my time, letting the hot water clear my thoughts and prepare me for the things I have to do next. Regardless of my heart, I have to be strong now. Stronger than I’ve ever been in my life.

It would be easy for me to convince myself that staying with Nico is the right thing. But that’s my heart. Not my strength.

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