Page 50 of Pregnant with Bratva Twins
He staggers, just a fraction, and then the anger floods back in. “You ran.”
I shake my head. “You would’ve destroyed us.”
He swallows hard, wrestling something inside himself. For a long, terrible moment, I truly don’t know what he’ll do next—take them, leave, break down entirely. The girls look up at him, innocent and curious, not understanding the battlefield they’ve walked into.
Sofia whispers, “Mama, I’m scared.”
That breaks me. I kneel, scooping both girls close. “Shh, it’s all right. You’re safe. I’m here.”
Markian watches, silent, fists clenched at his sides. For a moment he is just a man, not a monster, not a legend. Just a father—one who missed everything, who lost everything, and who wants it back so badly he’ll tear apart the world to get it.
I can see the doubt now, the crack in his armor. He wants to take them, but he doesn’t know how. He wants to punish me, but his hands shake. He wants a family, but all he’s ever learned is war.
We are all frozen, caught in the electric stillness before the storm. No one moves. No one speaks. Markian’s eyes are wild and lost. The girls clutch me, confused and frightened.
For a moment, all I can do is pray. Pray that he remembers he loved me once, that he sees these girls not as trophies, but as daughters who need their mother as much as they need him. Pray that whatever comes next, we can all survive it.
The world holds its breath, waiting for his decision.
Chapter Twenty-Four - Markian
The estate is too quiet for a place filled with children. I stand in the wide doorway of the old nursery wing, arms folded tight across my chest, shoulders hunched. The floors shine, polished to a mirror gleam. The windows spill sunlight across a line of hand-painted rocking horses and a basket of dolls that have not been played with in years. For the first time in my life, I am nervous. Truly nervous.
The girls are here. My daughters. My blood.
I watch them move across the rug, two small blonde bodies with identical hair and matching frowns.
Liana’s gaze is sharp, assessing the corners and doorways, already trying to map her escape.
Sofia trails behind, bunny clutched in one hand, eyes darting everywhere at once. They look so small in all this grandeur, swallowed by the room’s echo and the high ceilings.
For a long moment, I can only stare. Three and a half years I hunted for them. I waged wars, made enemies, burned cities to ash.
Now that they are here, within reach, they look like ghosts dropped in the middle of a fairy tale that isn’t theirs.
I crouch down, slow and awkward, the way I remember Jessa doing in some long-ago memory: her soft voice, her hands gentle, her body folded to their level. I try to summon that same patience, that same warmth, but my voice comes out clipped and rough.
“Hello,” I say, searching their faces for any flicker of recognition. “Liana. Sofia.” I try to soften it. “You can play with anything you like. No one will tell you no.”
Sofia’s eyes widen. She clings to Liana’s arm, shrinking back. Liana’s chin lifts a little, but she says nothing. The silence is heavy with accusation, fear, uncertainty. My own daughters flinch at the sound of my voice.
Something cracks inside me. I want to curse myself, to curse the world for all the days I missed, for every soft moment stolen by violence and pride. I sit back on my heels, defeated, my hands dropping useless to my knees.
“Papa?” I try again, softer now. “Do you want a story?” I glance at a stack of picture books by the window. “Your mama used to read them to you, didn’t she?”
Liana stares at me, assessing. Sofia hides behind her sister, silent.
I mutter a curse under my breath and push myself up, heart pounding for reasons I do not want to examine.
Seconds later, Lui saunters into the room, sleeves rolled, grinning like he owns the place. He scoops a plush lion from the toy chest and tosses it to the girls, catching their attention instantly.
“Who’s hungry for mischief?” Lui jokes, his Russian rolling off his tongue like a song. “Uncle Lui’s here. Don’t worry, I brought snacks.”
Sofia’s fear evaporates. She giggles, scrambling over the rug. Liana hesitates, then follows, drawn in by the easy charm and the sound of laughter. Within seconds, both girls aregiggling, climbing onto Lui’s lap, fighting for space, their heads tucked against his chest.
Something twists deep in my gut. I don’t know what it is, only that it makes me want to break something. They should be coming to me. They are my daughters, but they’re snuggled against Lui like he’s the father they’ve always known. I clench my fists and force myself not to show it.
Lui glances up, his expression softening when he catches the look on my face. He shrugs, mouth quirking. “You can’t scare them. Not on the first day. You have to let them come to you.”
