Page 18 of Bribed & Bred By The BRATVA (Bred By The BRATVA #9)
The pool house smells like paint and polish. I had the walls redone two days ago, fresh linen delivered, locks changed, and a security system fitted that even Nikolai admits is airtight. Still, I walk the perimeter myself. My eyes know what cameras miss.
Isabella trails behind me, her hand brushing the frame of the door, checking the details like she’s testing if this is real. I let her. I want her to see every corner and know it’s been made for her brother. Not borrowed. Not temporary. His.
The fridge hums, stocked to bursting. The books on the shelf aren’t mine, they’re ones I had brought in because I saw Isabella looking at them in the library, running her thumb across the spines like she wished she had time to read.
Mateo will have them now. A television mounted to the wall, a desk with a new computer, drawers empty and waiting.
“His bed is there,” I tell her, pointing to the corner where sunlight cuts across the fresh sheets. “He can see the garden when he wakes. The chair beside it is yours, if you want to stay.”
Her eyes shine, but she doesn’t speak. She presses her lips together like she’s holding back something that might break her open. I leave her there a moment and step outside.
The air is warm, lemon trees bending in the courtyard, fountains running low and steady.
My brothers are waiting, gathered like wolves at the edge of the pool.
Maksim is back holding his nine-month-old, Elara, with Clara standing beside him with the new baby tucked to her chest. She’s fierce even in exhaustion, eyes bright, protective like only a new mother can be.
Nikolai leans against the stone wall, smoke curling from the cigarette he’s not supposed to have while Rachel strokes her rounded belly.
Roman stands with his arms folded, a wall in human form and Mikhail holds onto Sarah possessively while she leans into him.
Maksim is first. “So, this is where you’re putting him.” His voice is quiet, not a question. He knows a decision when he sees one.
“Yes,” I say. “The pool house is separate. Guarded. He’ll have freedom without exposure.”
Roman tilts his head. “You’re giving up part of your estate to a sick kid.”
“My wife’s brother,” I correct. “Which makes him mine by extension.”
Roman huffs a laugh. “You always did collect strays.”
“Not strays. Family.” The words come out sharp.
Clara adjusts the baby, who makes a soft sound. She looks at me over the bundle. “You’ve thought this through.”
“Yes.”
Nikolai flicks ash to the stones. “And when the boy gets stronger? When he wants more than tutors and a garden view? What then?”
“Then I give him the choice,” I say. “He can leave. He can study abroad. He can disappear if he wants. But until then, he’ll be here, under my name, and no one touches him.”
Maksim nods slowly. He’s holding back, but I see the approval in his eyes. Clara breaks the silence with a small smile. “Then you’ve already done more for him than most men would.”
Isabella steps out from the doorway then, her shoulders tight, as if she doesn’t want to interrupt. The baby lets out a soft wail. Her gaze goes to the tiny face instantly, like she can’t help herself. Clara sees it and steps closer, tilting the bundle just enough. Isabella’s breath catches.
“This is Max,” Clara says. “Born fighting. Just like the rest of us.”
Isabella bends slightly, her hand hovering but not touching. “He’s beautiful.”
Clara studies her for a beat, then nods like she approves. “Yes. As yours will be.”
The exchange is small, but it matters. I feel it.
Maksim shifts his weight, looking at me again. “Where are you planning to move?”
“The south wing,” I say. “We’ll move in when her brother gets back. That way, he has distance but not absence.”
Roman’s eyes flicker. “And what will the rest of the world think when they see her there.”
“They’ll think what I want them to think,” I answer flatly. “That she’s mine. That she wears my ring, my name, and soon carries my child. That anyone who touches her or her brother dies before the sun sets.”
Silence again. Not argument, acknowledgment. Even Roman doesn’t press.
The baby whimpers and Clara rocks him gently. Isabella’s face softens in a way I haven’t seen before, her eyes shining at the sight. That’s when I know I chose correctly. She’ll fit. Not because she bends to us, but because she has a steel core that even Roman won’t be able to sneer at forever.
I turn back to my brothers. “This is settled. Mateo lives here. Isabella moves into the south wing with me. The house changes shape around them, and anyone who doesn’t like it can leave.”
Maksim smirks faintly. “Spoken like a man who finally understands what legacy means.”
I shrug. “I understand what inevitability means.”
Clara laughs under her breath. “Same thing.”
I look past them, to Isabella, still standing with her hand hovering close to the baby. She looks up, finds me watching, and for the first time since I put the ring on her finger, she really smiles.