Page 80 of Obsession of the Bratva

I lowered my gaze to where her hand rested between us, and then lower. To the place where our child was growing. The thought still felt surreal.

A child. Mine. Ours.

A quiet laugh escaped me. I had spent months convincing myself that Vera Stavros was the greatest mistake of my life. Now I couldn’t imagine my life without her. Or our child. The irony wasn’t lost on me. My fingers slid into her hair gently and carefully, in an effort to remind myself that she was really there. She made a sleepy sound and pressed closer, and I smiled despite myself.

A genuine smile. The kind that had become increasingly rare.

Then her eyes slowly opened, and for a moment she simply stared at me. Then she smiled, and something in my chest nearly stopped working.

God. I had missed that smile.

“I can feel you watching me while I sleep, Nico. Has no one ever told you that is creepy?” Her voice was rough with sleep.

I snorted and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I enjoy being creepy when it comes to you.”

She laughed softly, and the sound filled the room. It was warm and comfortable and familiar. For a moment I was transported backward to before everything went wrong. To lazy mornings and coffee cups and stolen kisses. To arguments about music and movies and absolutely nothing.

The ordinary things. The things I’d thought were gone forever.

Vera studied me. “What are you thinking about?”

I hesitated but then decided honesty was probably overdue.

“That somehow, for the first time in a long time, everything feels right again.”

The smile slowly disappeared from her face. Not because she disliked the answer but because she understood it. I tightened my arm around her.

“I thought I’d lost this.” My voice came out quieter than intended. “I thought I lost you forever.”

Her eyes softened. “Nico—”

“I mean it.”

I leaned forward, resting my forehead against hers.

“For months, I couldn’t breathe properly because you weren’t here. It genuinely felt as if a major part of my life had been snatched away from me, and I didn’t know what to do with it. With anything, really.”

A shaky laugh escaped her. “That sounds dramatic.”

“It is dramatic.”

I kissed the tip of her nose. “Well, believe it or not, Vera Stavros, I am apparently a dramatic man.”

She laughed again, and the sound immediately improved my mood. Dangerously so. Because now that I had it back, I wanted to hear it constantly. The realization was mildly alarming. Then again, so was most of my relationship with Vera.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Nico.”

I sighed. “You’re annoying.”

She gasped. “Wow. I’m annoying?!”

“You are.”

I looked deeply offended. “Imagine how difficult my life has been dealing with you every day for so long.