Page 54 of Bratva Bride

"I'd like some breakfast," Lukyan said, raising his hand like he was in bloody kindergarten or something.

I arched an eyebrow. "And when was the last time you made me breakfast?"

Fucking never.

He lowered his hand and scowled.

That's what I thought.

I removed the bread from the toaster and put two on each plate, as well as the eggs, bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes. I moved to the table and put a plate in front of each twin.

"Thank you," they both said at the exact same time. I wonder if that was something that just happened, or if it was intentional.

I nodded and pointed to the twin on the left. "Which one are you?"

They both laughed.

"I'm Luca," he said, pointing at his chest.

I removed one of the sparkly red bracelets from around my wrist and put it on him. He raised his arm into the air and stared at it with disgust. His blue eyes shot to me and he raised his brows in question.

"So I can tell you two apart," I elaborated.

Luca grumbled something under his breath, not happy with his new accessory.

"Dude, that's totally gonna salt your game," Christian laughed while he shovelled food into his mouth.

Luca narrowed his eyes and flung some eggs at his twin brother. "Shut up," he growled.

"If you guys weren't wearing the exact same outfit, and didn’t have the same damn hairstyle, I would be able to tell the two of you apart."

Christian and Luca both looked down at their clothes. Dressed in black slacks, a black shirt and black boots, it was like they didn't want people to be able to tell them apart. They both looked at each other and shrugged.

"I can tell them apart," Lukyan smirked, leaning back in his chair and running his eyes over the twins.

I moved back to the kitchen and started making Arturo's breakfast again, which was the entire damn reason I came down here in the first place.

"You can not," I chided.

"Can too."

I turned around and pointed my spatula at him. "You so can not. They look exactly the fucking same!"

Christian and Luca continued to eat like this was an everyday occurrence for them. It probably was. They looked between Lukyan and I, listening with amusement.

"Wanna bet?" Lukyan winked.

Oh, this fucker.He knows I never back down from a bet. It's in my Russian blood.

"Stakes?" I asked, flipping the eggs.

"I want your Wather Q5," he said, his lips curving into an evil smile.

I groaned. Of course he fucking did. He'd been eyeing that gun ever since I got it as a gift from my godfather. The semi-automatic was quickly becoming one of my favourite pieces. It looked a bit other-worldly, like something out of a futurist Sci-Fi movie with its machined frame. It had a Quick Defence Trigger and weighed around two kilograms. The Q5 recoiled fast, allowing the user to shoot with blazing speed and precision. Truth be told, I didn't want to bet it, just in case he could actually tell them apart. But I couldn't help it, I loved betting.

I piled all the food onto a plate and placed it on the kitchen counter.

"Fine. But if you can't tell them apart, you have to apologise to Arturo for being a dick. And you have to be nice to him from now on."

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