Page 14

Anatoly

“Baby, are you ready?”

I watch Gigi pull on the small black wool pants on Alexsandr’s stubby legs. It’s his first birthday suit. Of course, she had one made just like mine. She says that he’s my mini-me.

Da.

Of course, my boy is a beautiful, smart baby. He’s everything I never thought I wanted. I look at Gigi; her long, dark, wavy hair falls like a shiny curtain. She’s definitely perfect.

My heart swells with the emotion that I now know is my soul roaring.

“Alexsandr is such a good baby boy, don’t you think?”

Gigi looks at me, raising her brow and smiling.

Yeah, she’s setting me up; I can see it in her eyes.

“Da, Printsessa, he’s a perfect baby boy,” I say, nodding.

“Si. I know. Don’t you think that he needs to have a brat to play with?”

I stare at her, not really sure what to answer. Yes. That’s the correct answer. Right?

Fuck!

“Yes, but Baby. Alexsandr has his cousins to play with,” I say, looking at my boy.

“Si, but he needs a brat. Don’t you agree?”

Da, she wants something, another baby. My cock gets fucking hard, and I am anxious to start working on it.

I walk over to stand next to her, grab her hips, and lean down to kiss her neck, inhaling her special clean scent.

“Do you want me to give you another baby? I’m always ready to fuck your tight little pussy,” I growl, sucking her neck.

“Ahh, si I do, but Babe, you already did. I’m pregnant.”

Fuck me!

I pull back to look at her, raising my brow.

“Da, that works. Thank you for giving me another baby,” I say, smiling., holding her close.

“Awesome, now help me pull on his little tie so the baby can look just like you.”

“Da. But we’re still going to practice making babies, right,” I ask, gazing into her huge hazel eyes.

“Si, always. We will never stop practicing,” Gigi utters in a low, sexy voice.

“Da. So let’s get this party done because I have a lot of practicing to do.”

“Si, my Mom and Dad are here, as are your Brats. I want everything to be perfect. Let’s get the party started,” Gigi says, kissing me.

For some reason, I feel that she just pulled a fast one on me.

We walk out to the living room with Alexsandr. Fuentes rushes over and takes Alexsandr from Gigi.

“Come with your Papi, bebe. I love you; you’re my little man,” Fuentes says, kissing his chubby cheek.

“Adolfo, let me hold the bebe,” Flor says, extending her arms.

I watch them fight over the baby and inhale, grinding my molars. Da, I need just to accept that Fuentes is going to be in my life for fucking ever.

“Oh my, the baby is so cute,” Valentina squeals.

The twins are sleeping in the sectional.

“Oh my, Alexsandr looks like Anatoly,” Mia says, laughing, holding the baby.

“Brats, let’s talk,” Pakhan says, stoned-faced.

“Da,” I hum, following my Brats to the other side of the room.

“Fuentes was just telling me that Oro has wild hair up his fucking ass. He wants Mikhail to marry his niece to forge the alliance. The motherfucker is fucking paranoid. Mikhail, you need to find his niece and marry her. I don’t care how you do it, but do it ASAP,” Pakhan hisses, lowering his eyelids.

“Da. I’ll look for her and marry her. No worries. Can I get her details,” Mikhail asks, stoned-faced, standing tall.

Da, a Kravtsov through and through. He’s not wimping out and is stepping up to do his duty as a Kravtsov for the Bratva.

“I’ll send you the file on her,” I say, looking at my Brat.

“Da ASAP would be great,” Mikhail says, lifting his chin.

Svoloch’ is fucking demanding.

“Da.”

“Bratva, it’s Alexsandr's birthday! Let’s celebrate and forget business,” Gigi says, resting her hands on her hips.

“That’s right, come on, Brats, help me with the pinata,” I say, waving my Brats to the patio.

“A pinata,” Pakhan asks, raising his brow.

“Da, a fucking pinata. Brat, so fucking help me,” I hiss, walking through the patio door.

“Brat, who the fuck is going to hit the pinata,” Czar asks, rubbing his beard.

“Da, the babies are babies,” Mikhail asks, smirking.

“Svoloch’, you are. I’m going to fucking blindfold all three of you, and you’re going to fucking hit the fucking pinata,” I growl, gathering my brows.

“Fuck,” Pakhan says, crossing his arms.

“Da, I’m in,” Czar says, nodding.

“Da, no worries, I’m game,” Mikhail says, lifting his chin.

“Help me fill up the pinata with the candy,” I say, grabbing the four-foot-tall baby Mickey pinata.