Page 60 of Sold to the Bratva
“You remember how my father was,” I start.
Mikhail nods slowly. “I do.”
“He loved me, I guess, in his own way. But most of the time he was hard and cold. Everything revolved around the Bratva. Every decision and every choice served the family. Not the family that shared his blood, but the one he built. I always felt like I came last.”
Mikhail sits quietly, letting me unravel this knot.
“I don’t want to be like that. I want to be at the dinner table. I want to be in the stands at school plays, if our kid even wants to do shit like that.”
“You’ll be a great dad, Isaac. You’ve already proved you’re a good husband to Katya. I always figured you’d nail the family thing if someone gave you the chance. You just needed the right woman to remind you that you were worthy of it.”
I sit with that, and I know he’s right. I never pictured myself married, but then I met Katya and realized I couldn’t breathe without her. I never pictured fatherhood either, yet the second I saw that ultrasound, I knew I’d give this baby everything it deserves.
It scares the hell out of me how fast everything is happening, how this baby will be here in a handful of weeks. But Katya and I are in this together. Everything will fall into place.
Mikhail pushes to his feet and straightens his jacket. “Enjoy every second of it. You deserve this, Isaac. Don’t forget that.”
I nod and stand with him, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “Thanks, Misha.”
“Always,” he says, clearing the emotion from his throat. “Once the baby comes, don’t stress about a thing. I’ll handle everything so you can take some time.”
After he leaves, I lean forward, my gaze fixed on the photo under the glass. Soon I’ll see that face in person. I’ll memorize each curve of their nose, mouth, and eyes, and I’ll answer every time it cries.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel afraid. I feel completely ready to meet my child.
Later that night I find Katya in the bathroom, steam curling in the air and the scent of peppermint thick around us. She’s already soaking in the tub, eyes closed, head tipped against a rolled towel. Candlelight flickers across her skin, highlighting the curve of her shoulders and the gentle swell of her belly.
I kneel beside her and press a kiss to her damp temple. Her eyes flutter open.
“Hi,” she whispers, a gentle smile forming.
“Hi,” I murmur back, brushing her hair behind her ear. I reach for the oil she keeps on the edge of the tub, warm a few drops between my palms, then glide my fingers over her shoulders.
She releases a long, grateful sigh, melting into my touch.
“You’re incredible, you know that?”
She hums in reply, her eyes fluttering closed again. “Tell me more.”
“You’re beautiful and brave and strong. You’re also a pain in the ass sometimes, but I’m learning to like that.”
She chuckles, her body relaxing under my hands.
I kneel lower, pressing a soft kiss to her bare shoulder, then lower still to kiss the top of her stomach. “I love you,” I murmur against her skin. “Both of you.”
She opens her eyes and looks at me, her expression soft and unguarded. Even at thirty-six weeks pregnant, she’s the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. I know exactly what she’s thinking because I’m thinking it too.
I help her up and wrap her in a warm towel, then lift her from the bath and carry her to the bedroom. She gazes up at me as I lay her gently on the bed.
“You’re being sweet tonight,” she says, her voice heady.
“I’m always sweet,” I argue, feigning offense.
She raises a brow.
“Okay, okay.” I chuckle. “I’m sweet most of the time.”
She grins and pulls me toward her by the collar of my shirt. The kiss she gives me is deep and unrestrained, setting my blood on fire. Her tongue slips into my mouth, hot and searching. I’m hard just from her kiss, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m ever going to stop wanting her.
