Accidental Bratva Daddy (Bratva Blessings)

Chapter 14Luka

14

Luka

T he first thing I register as I claw my way back to consciousness is pain—a deep, throbbing ache in my side that pulses with each breath. The second is the unmistakable scent of antiseptic and gauze. My eyes flutter open, squinting against the soft light filtering through heavy curtains.

I'm in my own bed, I realize with a jolt of surprise. The familiar dark wood paneling and plush bedding a stark contrast to my last memory of stumbling through moonlit gardens, Natalia's arm around my waist as we fled for our lives.

Natalia.

My gaze sweeps the room, landing on a figure curled up in the oversized armchair beside my bed. Even in the dim light, I'd recognize that vibrant auburn hair anywhere. Natalia is fast asleep, her chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. She looks exhausted, dark circles shadowing her eyes. Her designer gown is rumpled and stained, a makeshift bandage wrapped around one slender arm where she must have been injured during our escape.

Despite her disheveled state, my breath catches at the sight of her. She looks like an avenging angel, fierce and beautiful even in repose.

A faint smile cascades across my lips as I watch her sleep. For someone who claims to despise me, she certainly seems concerned for my safety, willing to go to great lengths to keep me alive. The thought warms something deep in my chest, a feeling I'm not quite ready to name. I can almost picture it, a future with her by my side, the two of us together, her fierce and stubborn pride a complement to my own tenacity. She would be an amazing mother.

I shift slightly, trying to get a better look at her, and have to bite back a groan as pain lances through my side. The movement must have made some sound though, because Natalia stirs, her eyes fluttering open. I quickly avert my gaze, not wanting her to catch me staring.

"Luka?" Her voice is rough with sleep, but tinged with worry. "Are you awake?"

I turn my head to meet her gaze, struck anew by the vivid green of her eyes. "I'm awake," I confirm, my own voice gravelly. "How long was I out?"

Natalia sits up, running a hand through her tangled hair. "Almost twelve hours. The doctor said your body needed time to recover from the blood loss and trauma."

My brow furrows as I try to piece together the fragments of memory. "Doctor? How did we get here?"

"I drove as far away as I could, then used your phone to call your men," Natalia explains, leaning forward in her chair. "They brought us back here and summoned your house doctor. He patched you up and gave you something for the pain that knocked you right out."

I nod slowly, impressed by her quick thinking. "Thank you, Natalia," I say, letting a hint of warmth creep into my voice. "That was smart thinking. Are you alright? You weren't hurt?"

She shrugs, brushing off my concern. "Just a few scrapes. I'm fine. Thank you for protecting me.” Her eyes narrow slightly as she studies me. "How are you feeling? You lost a lot of blood."

"I've had worse," I assure her, even as I wince trying to sit up. Natalia is on her feet in an instant, her hands warm as she helps adjust my pillows.

"Easy," she chides gently. "The doctor said you need to take it slow for a few days."

I can't help but to smile. "Worried about me?"

Natalia rolls her eyes, but I don't miss the faint blush that colors her cheeks. "Don't flatter yourself. I just don't want to have to explain to your men why their boss bled out in his own bed."

Before I can respond, a knock at the door interrupts us. Dr. Petrov enters, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed and his white coat crisp despite the early hour.

"Ah, Mr. Volkov, you're awake," he says, striding to my bedside. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been stabbed," I deadpan, earning a soft snort of laughter from Natalia.

Dr. Petrov's lips twitch in amusement as he begins examining my wound. "Well, that's to be expected. You're a lucky man, Mr. Volkov. The knife only cut through muscle. Nothing vital was damaged."

I nod, relieved but unsurprised. It takes more than a lucky hit from some rival goon to take down Luka Volkov.

The doctor finishes checking my bandages, apparently satisfied with what he finds. He turns to Natalia, who has been hovering anxiously nearby. "And how are you feeling this morning, Mrs. Volkov? Any nausea or dizziness?"

Natalia shakes her head. "No, I'm feeling much better, thank you."

Dr. Petrov nods approvingly. "Good, good. And the twins are perfectly healthy. The ultrasound showed no signs of distress from last night's excitement."

The world grinds to a halt.

Twins?

My head whips towards Natalia so fast I feel a twinge in my neck. Her face has gone pale, eyes wide with panic as they dart between me and the doctor.

“I—what?" I manage to choke out, my mind reeling.

The doctor's brow furrows in confusion. "The ultrasound you requested earlier," he says slowly, reaching into his bag to pull out a grainy black and white image. "Everything looks perfectly normal for twins at this stage of development."

Natalia takes the offered paper with trembling hands, clutching it to her chest. Dr. Petrov glances between us, clearly sensing the tension that has suddenly filled the room.

"I'll, uh, leave you two to talk," he says, edging towards the door. "Call if you need anything, Mr. Volkov. And congratulations."

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving a deafening silence in his wake. For a long moment, neither of us speaks. I stare at Natalia, trying to process this bombshell. She refuses to meet my gaze, her eyes fixed firmly on the ultrasound in her white-knuckled grip.

"You're pregnant," I finally say, my voice flat. It's not a question.

Natalia nods jerkily, still not looking at me. "Yes."

"With twins."

Another nod.

"And you weren't going to tell me?" I can hear the anger building in my voice, a mix of hurt and confusion that I'm not equipped to deal with at all.

Natalia's head snaps up at that, her eyes blazing. "I was going to tell you," she insists. "I just... I wanted to wait for the right time. I wasn't even sure I was going to keep them at first."

Her words hit me like a physical blow. The thought of her getting rid of our children— my children—makes something primal and possessive rear up inside me.

"And when exactly would the 'right time' have been?" I demand, struggling to keep my voice level. "After they were born? When they started school?"

Natalia flinches at the acid in my tone. "I don't know," she admits quietly. "When I found out they were twins, I knew I couldn't go through with an abortion. It made it too real, and I realized that despite myself, I wanted them. But I didn't know how to tell you. We're not... this isn't..."

She trails off, gesturing vaguely between us. I understand what she means, even if I don't want to admit it. We're not a real couple. This was supposed to be a business arrangement, nothing more. A child—let alone two—changes everything.

I take a deep breath, trying to rein in the mess of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Anger. Fear. An unexpected surge of joy that I quickly tamp down. I need to think rationally about this.

"You're staying here for the pregnancy,” I say firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument. "The rival mafia has seen your face. You won't be safe anywhere else."

Natalia's eyes narrow. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she begins, but I cut her off with a sharp gesture.

"This isn't just about you anymore," I remind her, my gaze dropping pointedly to her stomach. "Those are my children you're carrying, and they’ll have enemies before they’re even born. I will not risk their safety. Or yours, for that matter.”

For a moment, I think she's going to argue. I can see the stubborn set of her jaw, the fire in her eyes that I usually find so captivating, and at times like this absolutely infuriating. But then her shoulders slump slightly, the fight draining out of her all at once.

"Fine," she says quietly. "You're right. It's not safe for me to be alone right now."

I nod, relief washing over me. "Good. I'll have Alexei prepare a suite for you. Anything you need, just ask."

Natalia stands, smoothing down her ruined gown. "I should go clean up," she murmurs, not quite meeting my eyes. "Get some rest, Luka. I'll check on you later."

As she turns to leave, something possessive and desperate seizes me. Before I can think better of it, I reach out and catch her wrist. Natalia tenses at the contact, but doesn't pull away.

"Wait," I say, my voice low and rough. I tug gently, urging her closer until she's standing at the edge of the bed. My free hand comes up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing over the delicate curve of her cheekbone. "Isn't it beautiful?" I murmur, unable to keep a hint of awe from my voice. "My doting wife, bringing not just one but two babies into the world."

Natalia tries to pull back, a mix of emotions flashing across her face too quickly for me to decipher. But I tighten my grip on her wrist, holding her in place.

"I want to thank you," I tell her, my gaze locked on hers. "For saving me. For carrying our children. For being braver than I ever gave you credit for."

Before she can respond, I pull her down and capture her lips in a kiss. Natalia makes a small sound of surprise against my mouth, her free hand coming up to brace against my chest. For a heartbeat, I think she's going to push me away. But then she melts into the kiss with a soft sigh that sends heat coursing through my veins.

I deepen the kiss, my tongue teasing the seam of her lips until she parts them with a quiet moan. My hand slides from her cheek to tangle in her hair, holding her close as I pour every ounce of gratitude and desire I feel into the kiss. Natalia responds with equal fervor, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt.

This is it, I realize. She is mine—my wife, the mother of my children, my everything. And I’m going to show her exactly what that means in my world, one way or another.