Page 72 of Sold to the Bratva
He nods. “Ours.”
For a long time, we don’t say anything else. There’s no need. We just sit together, holding her, watching her tiny chest rise and fall with every breath.
Exhaustion drags at me, but it can’t compete with the exhilaration coursing through my veins. I feel as though I could sleep for days and, at the same time, never close my eyes again.
“What should we name her?” I ask, the idea of it suddenly overwhelming me.
“I thought you’d settled on a name,” he teases, bringing up our constant back and forth about baby names over the last few months.
“Somehow, Frances just doesn’t fit her,” I joke.
“I really like Maude,” he teases right back. “And she was there for our baby’s first few breaths.”
“I don’t think Maude is a baby name,” I retort. “But don’t ever tell her that. I think Maude is a name you have to grow into. To earn.”
“Well, that’s probably true,” he concedes. “What about Kira?”
Kira. I roll the name around on my tongue, and when I whisper it out loud, it sounds perfect.
“That’s the one,” I say, bringing her closer to my face so I can kiss her softly. “Little Kira Kozlova.”
A silence falls between us, but it isn’t uncomfortable. It’s reverent, a moment suspended in time just for the three of us. Then Isaac’s face darkens. A shadow passes over his expression, and I know that peace is about to break.
He lifts Kira gently in his arms, brushing his lips against her forehead before settling her more securely against his chest. His other hand reaches for mine.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he says.
I know what’s coming. It’s in his tone. The steady way he braces himself. The way his jaw tightens like he’s preparing for impact.
“Your father and Oleg,” he begins, “they’re the ones who orchestrated the attack.”
I blink, sure I’ve misheard in my exhaustion. “What?”
Isaac nods. “They infiltrated the house. They said it was all a long game to take over the Kozlov Bratva. Marrying you to me was their way in. They wanted my trust.”
I sit up straighter despite the ache in my lower back and the fog of delivery still pressing against my skull.
“No,” I whisper. “No, that can’t be right.”
“I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen them myself. They came into my office, guns drawn. They admitted everything to me like it was a done deal.”
My head spins. “He was willing to risk me?”
Isaac’s eyes soften, but the fury simmering behind them is unmistakable.
“I don’t think he ever thought I’d fight back. Or maybe he thought you’d just stay quiet. That you’d take it. I don’t know, Katya. I only know one thing for sure and that I love you.”
He leans forward, still holding our daughter as if she’s made of spun glass.
Tears prick my eyes again, hot and fast. “I had no idea,” I whisper. “I swear, if I had known…”
“I know.”
“I would’ve warned you. I would’ve told you everything.”
“I know.”
My voice breaks. “I can’t believe he would do that. To me. To our daughter.”
