Page 113 of Bratva Daddy


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Still, we have an unspoken rule within our household. Everything outside the walls of our home is his business. When he walks through the door, he’s all mine. His business life and his home life are separate, not just for the sake of my sanity, but for our children, as well. I want them to live their lives without fear.

My mornings start around six. The babies have been waking me up earlier and earlier, kicking around as they move and stretch. I’m scheduled to deliver in three days’ time, and I have to admit the nervous excitement that comes with the knowledge of their impending arrival has me feeling restless and a little agitated. My belly is large and swollen. Moving about has become quite a chore. As much as I’ve enjoyed my pregnancy, I’m very much ready for the next phase—being their mother.

Everything is ready for the quadruplets' arrival. The nursery has been decorated in a lovely pastel yellow, their cribs lined up in a neat row near the window for plenty of sunlight. There’s a huge pile of toys, some of which are still in their boxes, stacked up high in the opposite corner. Dimitri’s brothers have a real soft spot for children, the majority having been sent by Mikhail himself or shipped all the way across the Atlantic from New York.

I personally never knew my extended family, so it makes me unbelievably happy to know my little girls are going to be loved and adored by their uncles.

I wander down to the kitchen to make myself a bit of tea, flitting about as silently as I can in the early morning hours. But despite my best efforts, I hear Dimitri’s heavy footsteps descending the stairs.

“What are you doing?” he asks groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“Go back to bed,” I say lightly.

“Can’t sleep without you, you know that.”

I giggle. “Such a big baby.”

He pouts his lips. “Yourbig baby.”

“Is Simon—”

“Still out like a light,” he assures, moving in to kiss me. “Though I’m sure that’ll change in a couple of minutes. He’s such a light sleeper.”

“He must get that from you.”

“You know, I don’t have any business to attend to today. How about we go to the park for a quick stroll? The weather’s supposed to be lovely.”

“Do you think Boris will let us? You know how he hates impromptu trips.”

“Luckily for you, I already asked him to scout out the park and surrounding area yesterday.”

I laugh softly. “So you did so under the assumption I’d agree?”

“Doyou agree?”

“Obviously. I love going on walks with you. Not to mention Simon loves the swings.”

“Do you think I should just buy them their own swing set?” he asks. “We could put it in the backyard and—”

Three soft knocks sound at the front door. For a moment, neither of us react. At first, I thought I misheard. Could it have been a racoon running about outside? The newspaper delivery boy dropping off the latest edition? It’s much too early for visitors, after all.

But then someone knocks again. We have an unexpected guest.

Dimitri brings a finger up and presses it to his lips, a signal for quiet. He pulls out his phone and taps the screen a few times, pulling up a surveillance app, one of the many upgrades he’s made since we moved into our new home. It links us directly to the camera at the front door, showing us exactly who our visitor is.

My face blanks when I see her face.

Dahlia.

“Go upstairs,” he whispers.

“What are you going to do?”

“That depends entirely on what she’s here to do.”

I swallow, but I don’t argue. What if Dahlia’s here to enact her vengeance?

As quiet as a mouse, I hurry up the stairs and hide around the corner, craning my neck so I can try to hear. My stomach clenches, uneasiness making bile rise into my throat. How did she find us? What does she want?

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