Page 75 of Sold to the Bratva
“She already does.”
He chuckles. “Fair point.”
I take her from the carrier carefully, cradling her to my chest, and she settles with a soft hum of contentment. Isaac wraps his arm around us both, his hand spreading over my lower back.
“This is everything I’ll ever need,” I say quietly. “Right here. You, her, this little life we’ve built together.”
Isaac brushes a kiss to the side of my face. “And it’s only the beginning.”
He releases me long enough for me to pass Kira back to him and tidy the studio. Once I’m satisfied, we walk hand in hand to the car and drive home. A comfortable silence settles between us, and the secret I’m carrying feels heavier by the mile. I’ll tell him tonight. I have to. Soon my body will give me away.
I decide I’ll tell him later that night while I watch the two of them play. Isaac kneels beside Kira, guiding her tiny hands to stack the colorful blocks she always knocks over moments after building them. He’s patient and gentle, nothing like the fearsome man the world knows. The contrast still startles me. There’s Isaac Kozlov, who runs the most powerful Bratva in New York, and Isaac, who sings lullabies, kisses scraped knees, and slow dances with me in the kitchen once the baby is asleep.
I press a hand to my stomach. It’s still flat, no sign yet of the life growing inside me, but I feel it. I’ve known for a few days now, ever since the wave of nausea hit me while I was brushing my teeth. I didn’t want to say anything right away. Not until I was sure. The doctor confirmed it today, though, and I’m ready to let him in on the joy.
“Isaac,” I say, stepping into the room with a smile tugging at my lips.
He glances over his shoulder and the smile he gives me is enough to melt the floor beneath my feet.
“There’s my favorite girl.”
Kira lets out a squeal of delight, and Isaac laughs, adding, “Well, one of them.”
I kneel beside him, brushing a hand along Kira’s curls before leaning in to press a kiss to Isaac’s cheek. He smells like clean soap and sandalwood. Home.
“I need you to do something for me,” I murmur, brushing invisible lint from his shoulder.
He lifts an eyebrow. “Anything.”
“Okay,” I say softly. “Close your eyes.”
Isaac gives me a curious look but obeys, his long lashes fluttering shut.
I reach for a tiny box behind me, the one I’d hidden on the bookshelf earlier. I slide it open and pull out the plastic test, placing it carefully in Kira’s hands. She coos at the weight of it, and I have to stop her from putting it in her mouth.
I guide Isaac’s hands gently toward Kira’s little grip, helping her offer the test up to her daddy like it’s just another toy. It’s so small in his large, calloused hands.
“Open them.”
He blinks, and his gaze drops automatically to the test.
His brow furrows, then his eyes widen.
His face splits into the kind of grin that turns my whole body to mush. He looks from the test to Kira, then back to me.
“You’re pregnant again?” he breathes, voice hoarse.
I nod, feeling the warmth bloom in my chest. “I am.”
There’s a moment where time seems to hold still. Then, suddenly, I’m in his arms, pulled tight against his chest, his mouth covering mine in a kiss that steals the air from my lungs.
“Are you ready to go on this ride with me again?”
“For my wife?” he whispers against my lips. “Always.”
Tears spring to my eyes, but I don’t let them fall just yet. I don’t want to blur the sight of his joy. This moment, this pure, unfiltered happiness, is something I want to remember for the rest of my life.
Later, in bed, he kisses me softly, his mouth languishing over mine. As soon as Kira was safely in her crib and starting to fall asleep, he’d whisked me away to show me just how happy he was that we’re expecting again.
