Page 41 of Sexting the Bratva Boss (Text to Touch)

Eva

Morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm patches of light on the carpet.

I was leaning back on the sofa, feeling our little one's restless movements in my belly—kick after kick, full of life's energy.

Ruslan was kneeling in front of me, completely focused, carefully massaging soothing oil into my slightly swollen ankles.

After that dreamlike night at the awards ceremony, time seemed to fast-forward.

The baby was now over nine months along.

During this period, I'd stepped away from all the spotlights and work to focus on preparing for birth.

Since I didn't want to stay in the hospital, Ruslan had our private obstetrician, Dr. Zoe, move into the villa with us.

"All done, my personal masseuse?" I teased Ruslan, tracing my finger along his strong jawline.

He looked up, those deep eyes full of tenderness. He caught my hand and pressed a kiss to it. "Not yet," his voice was low and sexy. "Dr. Zoe said fifteen minutes. It's only been thirteen minutes and forty-five seconds. "

I watched his almost obsessive attention to detail, my heart overflowing with emotion.

These past two months, he'd canceled all unnecessary meetings, read countless parenting books, and prepared for our child's arrival.

He'd even learned to cook just so he could personally make nutritionist-approved meals for me.

Just as I was basking in this peaceful happiness, a powerful contraction gripped my abdomen, followed by a warm rush of fluid I couldn't control. I froze, instinctively grabbing Ruslan's arm.

"Ruslan," my voice was shaking. "I think it's time."

"Don't be afraid," Ruslan said steadily, his voice carrying that instant calming power. "I'm here. Everything's ready."

He hit the emergency call button beside the sofa almost simultaneously. Within seconds, Dr. Zoe, who'd been on standby, rushed in.

"Sir, Mrs. Yvannov's water has broken," Dr. Zoe assessed calmly with her years of experience.

"Prep the car! Alert the hospital! Clear the shortest route possible!" Ruslan's orders were crisp and efficient. When he lifted me, I could feel his arm muscles taut as stone, but his movements were incredibly gentle.

Dr. Zoe nodded and immediately began coordinating everything.

On the way to the hospital, I lay in the specially modified medical van equipped with full emergency equipment. Contractions came in waves, making me sweat and grip the sheets beneath me. Ruslan held my hand tightly, constantly wiping the perspiration from my forehead.

I looked at this man who never showed fear, even when the world was crashing down around him—but now tiny beads of sweat dotted his temples, his jaw clenched tight.

"Breathe, Eva, follow my breathing," he repeated the Lamaze breathing techniques he'd learned from parenting books over and over in my ear.

Seeing his anxious state, I actually managed to smile between contractions. "Ruslan," I panted, "you look more nervous than I am."

He leaned down and kissed my forehead, his voice strained: "I wish I could be lying here instead of you, Eva. I wish I could take all of this on myself. "

My eyes welled up. I knew he meant every word—this man would do anything for me.

When we reached the hospital, everything was in position. I was taken directly to the VIP delivery room while Ruslan was politely but firmly stopped at the door by the nurses.

"Mr. Yvannov, please wait outside. We'll do everything possible to ensure your wife and baby's safety."

He seemed like he wanted to say something, but I shook my head at him through the door crack.

The delivery room door slowly closed.

The next several hours were the hardest of my life. Every contraction felt like it would tear my body apart.

In those moments when the pain almost consumed me, my only anchor was thinking about the man I loved waiting outside that door.

It gave me infinite strength. I was going to do this for him, for us—bring our child into this world.

I don't know how much time passed, but with the doctor's encouragement, I used every last ounce of strength in my body.

"Waaah—"

A loud, healthy cry filled the room.

We did it.

I was completely drained, sweat soaking my hair and clothes, my body feeling like it had been run over by a truck. But my heart was bursting with pure joy.

"It's a very healthy baby girl! You did amazing!" the nurse said, bringing her over to me.

I looked at her—this wrinkled, slippery little thing with her eyes squeezed shut. This was the little person who'd been living inside me for over nine months. My tears came flooding out.

The delivery room door burst open.

Ruslan practically ran in. But instead of immediately looking at the newborn everyone was focused on, his eyes went straight to me.

He rushed to my bedside, his hands trembling as he gently touched my sweat-dampened face .

"Eva," his tone was full of concern, his eyes bloodshot, his voice so hoarse it was barely recognizable. "Are you okay?"

Looking at him like this, I nodded. "I'm fine, Ruslan."

"I'm sorry," he leaned down, burying his face in the curve of my neck. I could feel warm drops falling on my skin. "I'm sorry you had to go through so much pain."

This man, who bled but never cried, was crying for me.

I gently stroked his hair, saying softly, "Knowing it was for you made it all worth it."

He looked up at me deeply and kissed my lips with reverence.

Just then, the nurse smiled as she handed the well-wrapped baby to Ruslan. "Mr. Yvannov, congratulations! This is a beautiful little girl, seven pounds two ounces, perfectly healthy."

Only then did Ruslan shift his gaze from me to that tiny life. He stood up, stiff but extremely careful as he took her from the nurse.

He held the baby so gently, terrified of hurting this fragile little life.

"She's so small," Ruslan said, looking down at the sleeping little face in his arms as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

"What's her name?" the nurse asked gently.

Ruslan and I looked at each other and said in unison, "Tathia."

It was the name we'd decided on long ago. Tathia means "new life" in Russian—she was the beginning of our new life together.

Ruslan carefully placed Tathia in my arms, then sat on the edge of the bed, one hand gently stroking our daughter's tiny face, the other gripping mine tightly.

"I never thought I'd have a moment like this in my life. So much happiness," his voice was barely a whisper.

I squeezed his hand back. "We'll have many more moments like this."

The next day, my mother and Ivanka came to visit at different times.

The moment my mother walked in and saw me in bed with tiny Tathia in the bassinet beside me, tears immediately started flowing. " My dear, you've been through so much." She took my hand, her eyes overflowing with concern.

"Mom, I'm fine. Look, I'm perfectly okay now," I smiled, trying to comfort her.

"Fine, my ass. Childbirth is dangerous business for women," Mom scolded, then looked over at Ruslan, who was changing Tathia's diaper. Her expression softened considerably. "But seeing him like this, I guess all your suffering was worth it."

Ivanka was a completely different story. She leaned over the bassinet, looking at sleeping Tathia with amazement. "Holy shit, look at that little nose and mouth—she's like a carbon copy of Uncle Ruslan."

I burst out laughing. "She's still all wrinkled up. How can you even tell?"

"She really does look like Uncle Ruslan!" Ivanka marveled. "I hope our little Tathia grows up to be a sweet princess, not like her dad with that scary ice-cold face."

Right on cue, that ice-cold face walked over and gave Ivanka a flat stare. She immediately laughed awkwardly.

After Tathia's one-month celebration, Ruslan began planning our wedding.

He chose Lake Como in Italy, booking the entire D'Este Villa Hotel—a legendary establishment with centuries of history that had once hosted countless royals and nobles.

The weather on our wedding day was absolutely perfect. Lake Como sparkled like something out of a fairy tale under the brilliant sunshine.

Naturally, Ivanka was my maid of honor, and her parents had also come for the wedding.

Ivanka wore a soft blue bridesmaid dress, helping me arrange my train while marveling, "Seriously, Eva, Uncle Ruslan really went all out this time.

I bet even European royal weddings don't have this kind of setup.

" Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she said, "Does this mean I have to call you Aunt Eva now? That's so weird."

I looked at myself in the mirror, wearing the one-of-a-kind wedding dress designed by Italy's top designer. The silky satin hugged my post-pregnancy figure beautifully, adorned with thousands of tiny pearls that shimmered in the sunlight.

I smiled, deciding to tease her. "Technically, yes." I paused, seeing her make a face like she'd bitten into something sour. "But you can keep calling me Eva. I can't imagine you actually calling me Aunt Eva."

Ivanka laughed too.

When it was time, Ivanka helped me with my trailing dress and escorted me to the start of the aisle.

The moment the wedding march began playing by the symphony orchestra, my heart started racing uncontrollably.

My mother took my arm. She looked at me with tears in her eyes. "Sweetheart, you're so beautiful today. I'm so happy for you."

"Mom," I felt my nose getting stuffy, too.

"Go on," she patted my hand. "Go to the man who'll make you happy for the rest of your life."

I walked arm-in-arm with my mother, step by step, toward the man waiting for me under the flower arch.

Ruslan wore a white suit today that made him look even more striking. He stood there watching me approach with such tenderness and love.

When my mother solemnly placed my hand in Ruslan's, he gripped it tightly.

We stood side by side before the priest officiating our ceremony, vowing that whether in wealth or poverty, sickness or health, we would love and cherish each other until death do us part.

When the ceremony concluded, the priest smiled and announced, "You may now kiss your bride."

Ruslan lifted my veil and leaned down to kiss me—a kiss both passionate and reverent. Surrounded by the cheers and blessings of our loved ones, we sealed our promise to be together forever with that kiss .

Dear precious reader,thank you for reading Sexting the Bratva Boss ! When I finished writing the book, I couldn't put down my penyet...

not until I wrote a little something extra special just for you, click here to get your bonus epilogue

PS: If you liked Sexting the Bratva Boss , I think you'll also like Sin in My Inbox ! Go to the next page for a sneak peek...