Page 41 of Captive Vows (The Dubinin Bratva #1)

GAbrIELLA

T hree weeks later…

It didn’t matter how I slowed down and tried to take myself back to the basics of all that I knew. It was simply a challenge to move like I used to.

“I don’t get it,” I complained quietly, more to myself than the spectators in my studio.

Last week, I went through my post-partum checkup. I was cleared to have sex, something Luka and I didn’t waste time doing that very night. I was also given the okay to dance and reintroduce more exercise into my life.

Dance was the only form of exercise I ever wanted.

Well, all right. Making love with my husband often felt like a workout too, in the best of ways.

It wasn’t as simple as I thought it might be, resuming my skills and dancing again.

I was stiff. Clumsy. Out of sync.

“What’s there to not understand?” Luka asked as he held Andre.

He carried him with ease, such a confident, quick-to-help father.

Sometimes, I wondered if our baby favored him with how easily he calmed for him.

I knew it wasn’t true. So long as the milks jugs were on offer from me, Andre would prefer me.

“You were pregnant. You had a baby. Your body will naturally change.”

I winced, trying again to bend and sway my arms in a manner that would enable me to lead into a sequence of steps and spins.

“Yeah. My body changed.” I huffed when I couldn’t pull off what I considered a simple series in a dance I’d taught myself years ago. Cupping my breasts, I groaned. “Because of these massive things, I don’t even feel like this is my body anymore.”

He chuckled, pretending to shield Andre’s eyes. And that was a smart move. I wasn’t all that sure what two-month-olds could see. His vision had to be developing yet, but I swore he had tunnel vision for my boobs.

I smiled.

“Hey, I love those massive things.”

I rolled my eyes, frustrated by how hard it was to get back into the groove of it all. “Not as much as he does,” I joked.

“It will take time,” Luka advised sagely, patiently.

“I know. I know.” For some dumb reason, I figured I wouldn’t have lost so much. I would be patient, even if my dreams had changed. Going to Juilliard didn’t seem as important anymore. Not as much as having another baby with my husband did.

Maybe I’d get on stage later, but for now, embracing this newfound wonder of having a family was more than enough to make my heart swell with joy and love.

“I’m trying to be patient,” I admitted, not stopping and going slowly to pay attention to my body. Tendons and ligaments were impacted during a pregnancy, too, so I knew to listen to my muscles and pay attention to aches and pains before they’d cause long-term problems.

“It just reminds me of how I felt before. When I had to beg for lessons and barely get any attention to improve under instructors.” That felt like a lifetime ago, when I had to clean that shitty apartment for Miguel to cave and pay for the bare minimum.

When I was so scared after Tony almost raped me that I slept at Amy’s mom’s studio just to have shelter.

I wanted for nothing now. Luka provided me with everything I’d ever need. If I asked, he’d start back up with having instructors. He had made it clear that he would never hesitate to give me anything I wished for.

“Miguel never gave a shit about whether I improved or not. He never cared that I wanted to dance.”

Luka didn’t reply. Merely watching me stretch and warm up to try to dance, he didn’t say a single thing.

“Do you miss him?” he asked at last when I was frustrated about how slowly I was getting in the hang of this.

“Miguel?” I scoffed. “No. How could I miss the man who nearly got me killed? Who wanted to take that precious baby?”

He exhaled a long, hard breath, meeting my gaze. “He’s gone.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“You do?” He raised his brows.

“Yeah, like, the day after you killed him. Blame Emil. He mentioned something about a warehouse and Miguel, and I connected the dots.”

“I wasn’t sure if and when to tell you.”

I shrugged. “I figured. I mean, it’s not every day a daughter can wish her father dead.

” Maybe in this Mafia world, it was. But for me, I clung to some of that former normalcy I had once.

My gauge of good versus bad hadn't changed since marrying him and being a part of this family. I still liked to think I was a good person at heart. Wishing Miguel dead wasn’t bad of me. It was self-defense.

“Besides, when you took me out to eat for a date, I realized how at ease you were to be in public with me. That convinced me that something had to have changed, and with what I overheard Emil say, I realized he was dead.”

He nodded. “I can’t always tell you the details of what we do.”

I held my hand up, stopping him from elaborating. “Please. Keep it like that. I don’t need to know the details.”

He smiled. “Not even about that?”

“Okay.” I shrugged. “I would’ve liked to know that Miguel was no longer a threat. But still, it wasn’t necessary for you to announce it. No lost love there. And I knew you would kill him. I have faith that you’ll always protect me. I’m familiar with how you can keep your word.”

“I always will.”

My father was no longer a threat, no longer an issue, and I was grateful for that.

“Thank you, though.” I blew him a kiss.

Maybe I’d go to hell for thanking my husband for killing my father.

But I doubted it.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, watching me with an increasing flame of fire in his eyes.

Over the last year, I’d adjusted to so many changes. I was a mother. A wife. The head of a household. I was still a dancer, but those other roles mattered more right now.

I no longer worried about being tainted or ruined by associating with this Mafia Family. Instead of assuming the worst and seeing them as nothing but monsters and killers, I knew how fiercely they loved.

Violence was a staple in this life. The more I reacted and waited to freak out, the more I learned that it never touched me directly. It never reached me to the point that my fight-or-flight instinct would flare up.

Because I was safe. I was safer here than I ever would be anywhere else.

When I finished for the night, knowing that baby steps and a gradual approach to dancing would be the way to go, I walked toward him holding a now-sleeping Andre. My heart grew with love each time I saw them together, and I knew that it would never, ever get old.

No spells of being numb and emotionless would ever plague me again.

I had them.

And it was more than enough to fulfill me.

“Ready to get out of here?” Luka asked, carrying our son out of the studio. I sipped my water, eager to shower and get in bed.

“Ready to get out of here and be with you.” I smiled slowly, letting him figure out what I meant. I couldn’t help but remember when he told me that he’d been waiting for my happiness here, for my smile. I doubted I’d ever stop now.

“Hmm.” He put his free hand on my back. “I'll be ready for that too.”

I leaned up to kiss him, earning a low growl of desire.

“You shower and get in bed. By then, I’ll have him sleeping in his bassinet.”

“Shh!” I gave him a stern look. “Don’t jinx it.”

He chuckled. “You just have to know how to lower him.”

I rolled my eyes. I tried. It never mattered. The second I put Andre down, he’d wake up.

I was starting to believe he had some radar for my boobs, knowing where I was.

“It’s cute, though, seeing how Emil, Ivan, and Alexsei help with him.” I couldn’t forget Allen, too. “At this rate, I’ll never need a nanny.” I opened the door to our room. “Then again, it would be nice to have another woman around here.”

He laughed. “You’re the only woman in the family now. I guess until we have a daughter.”

“Maybe we can practice tonight in making one.”

He lightly spanked my ass. “I’ll hold you to that.”

I knew he would. Backpedaling toward the bathroom, I said, “Seriously. It would be nice to have another woman around here.”

“I wouldn’t count on Emil bringing someone home.” He rolled his eyes.

I agreed. He was too cocky, too arrogant. And too much of a bachelor and playboy.

“What about Ivan?”

He shrugged. “You might be on to something there.”

“He’s got a girlfriend?” I guessed.

“He almost had a wife. He walked away from her years ago, but I bet seeing how happy we are together has him wishing he could find her again.”

I didn’t ask about Alexsei. He seemed to hold on to grief yet from losing his wife.

“Regardless,” Luka said after I showered, picking up our conversation, “you are the woman of my life. The only one.” He kissed me deeply, urging me to follow him toward the bed. “And you always will be—all mine.”

I smiled, falling on to the mattress with him. Straddling him and ready to make love, the telltale sound of Andre crying had me hanging my head and groaning.

“I’m telling you, he’s got a radar for me.”

Luka chuckled, rubbing my back. “I guess you’re not only mine right now.”

I kissed him, smiling as I got up to tend to our hungry son. “I’m yours, Luka. Always.” And I was damn proud to say it.