Page 58 of Pregnant with Bratva Twins
Jessa’s gaze lifts and finds mine. All my nerves vanish. She’s here, she’s real. I breathe her in with every step. She hesitates just before reaching me, squeezing the twins’ hands. I step forward, offering my arm.
“Ready?” I ask, voice low.
She laughs, nervous and bright. “Absolutely.”
I lean close, teasing, “Too late to run now.”
She grins, blue eyes bright. “Don’t tempt me.” She takes my arm anyway, her fingers warm and sure.
Alexei moves to the twins, gently steering them to their places. “This way, small warriors,” he rumbles, and Liana giggles.
The priest welcomes us with old, careful Russian. “We gather to witness a new beginning,” he intones, then switches to English for the girls’ sake. “A family rebuilt. A future rewritten.”
I squeeze Jessa’s hand. She glances sideways at me, biting her lip. “Are you nervous?” she whispers.
I shake my head, smiling for only her. “Not with you.”
She exhales. “Me neither.”
We exchange vows, mine short and hoarse. “I take you, Jessa, as mine, forever. I love you, and I promise I won’t ever let you forget it.” Her voice trembles. “I promise to love you, even when it hurts. Even when I’m scared. Always.”
When the priest asks for the rings, Lui nearly fumbles them, making the twins giggle. I slide the band onto her finger, whispering, “Mine.” She presses my ring on, soft and shaking. “Always.”
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest says.
I lean in, and she lifts her face. The kiss is soft, but the world roars. The crowd applauds, the twins squeal, and I press my hand to the small of her back: claiming, shielding, needing her close.
Afterward, the reception fills with laughter. The girls spin in dizzy circles on the flagstones, clutching each other, bouquets tossed and forgotten. Lui scoops Sofia up, swinging her high. “Careful!” Jessa calls, laughing, one hand on my arm.
Alexei sits with his drink, stoic but smiling at the scene. He lifts his glass toward me as I approach. “Welcome to married life, Markian. Better you than me.”
I sit beside Jessa, arm tight around her waist. She leans her head against my shoulder. “Is it real?” she asks quietly.
I squeeze her hand. “Yes. We did this. We survived.”
She blushes as I lean in and murmur, “Wait until you see what’s waiting upstairs.”
She swats me, giggling. “Behave.”
Lui pops up with the girls, both wild with sugar and excitement. “Papa! Dance!” Liana cries.
Jessa stands, smoothing her dress. “He can’t dance,” she teases.
I rise, pretending to be affronted. “I can. I just don’t want to outshine you.”
She grins. “Prove it.”
So I spin her under the fairy lights, my bride laughing in my arms. Sofia and Liana swirl around our legs. Alexei and Lui clap along from their table, Alexei shouting, “Don’t drop her, Markian!”
“Never,” I promise, grinning, and Jessa squeezes my hand, her eyes shining.
***
As the night winds down, Jessa and I slip away. I lead her to our room, heart racing. She steps into the lamplight, the lace of her lingerie catching every curve, every promise. My mouth goes dry.
She smiles, nervous and radiant. “Well?”
I cross the room in two strides, catching her face in my hands. “You’re mine now,” I whisper.
