Page 61 of Forced By the Bratva King

“Language,” Artem cautioned, smiling at my devastation as he killed the engine.

“What? Don’t judge me. They didn’t hear me; they’re not in the car, are they?” I blurted out at him, pissed by that pesky little grin on his face. “Oh, this is funny?” I pushed my head back, a little dramatic to get his attention and sweet words.

“Come on, I didn’t say that.” He chuckled.

“But you smiled; I saw you do it,” I insisted.

“Yeah, that’s because you look insanely hot when you’re mad,” he said, his lips curling up to reveal a hint of mischief in his eyes.

And with that, he shut me up so effortlessly, causing my skin to prickle with a sudden sweet sensation, like a million tiny fingers dancing across my cheeks.

“Tell me, how did you become the fun parent, and since when did I become the boring Mom?” I added, raising my eyebrows and playfully throwing a punch at his shoulder.

He laughed lightly. “You’re not boring. You’re just strict sometimes; that’s all.” Artem’s voice was soft and smooth. “But you know, you don’t have to be the disciplinarian all the time,” he said, leaning over to kiss me.

“You know what? I’m just gonna ignore the irony of that. I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear it,” I replied, kissing him back.

It had been three years already since the twins were born: three years of bliss and happiness, not without the challenges, of course. Raising one child was usually quite daunting for most families, and we were raising two at the same time. It wasn’t easy, especially because these little angels could switch to being my worst nightmare in a matter of seconds.

As adorable as they were, Mikhail and Marina had proven over time to be a force to be reckoned with. Those two were often exasperatingly difficult to handle, and they drove me nuts most of the time.

Mikhail took after his father in many ways: same dark siren eyes, same black hair, and same measure of stubbornness. He was basically the spitting image of his father.

Marina was so cute, with pale skin and green eyes just like me, and the only thing she took from her was his calmness. She didn’t talk much, but she was just as stubborn as her brother. Separately, they were amazing kids, but together…my, oh my. Together, they could make anyone’s life a living hell.

Regardless, they weremykids, and my love for them knew no bounds. In fact, because of that love, my husband and I hadn’t really spent quality time together. Which was the reason we were here, at Kara’s and Frank’s.

We stepped out of the vehicle, and he held my hand as we walked into the house. Once inside, Zoya, who was already seven years old by now, was busy with the twins. Despite their hotheads, they always behaved around Zoya and her family.

To the outside world, my kids were angels, end of story. Even their grandpa had no idea how difficult they could be. The kids always loved to spend quality time with Niall Donovan whenever he dropped by the house, and healwaysdropped by the house. No matter the stories I told him about their demonic behavior, he never bought it because, around him, those two were Saint Peter and Mother Teresa.

The moment she saw us, Zoya left the twins and rushed to our feet. “Uncle Artem, Aunt Sierra, check out my new dog!” The excitement in her voice was palpable, and her eyes widened with a smile. “Shelby! Come over here!” She beckoned, her voice warm and inviting, as the friendly, gentle, and playful Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, with big brown eyes and a soft, fluffy coat, left the twins and scurried over to us, wagging its tail with its little paws pattering on the floor. “Isn’t he adorable?” She bent over to its level, stroking its fur.

“It sure is,” I said playfully, joining her to stroke its fur.

“Dad, I want one of those!” Mikhail shouted from across the room where he was chasing after his sister.

“No, Dad, don’t listen to him! I don’t want one of those!” Marina objected while still in motion.

“Hi!” Kara greeted us with a warm, fuzzy smile as she approached us from the kitchen. “Zoya, go play with the twins.”

“Come on, Shelby, let’s go!” She sprinted away, and the dog followed after her.

I embraced her. “Hi, Kara.”

“Hi,” she replied.

“Where’s Frank?” Artem asked her.

Her brows furrowed at him. “Well, hello to you, too.”

He smirked, accepting her into his arms. “How are you, sis?”

“Very well,” she replied and stepped away, watching us closely. “You need a favor, don’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?” I asked, my posture slouching a little.

She laughed, demonstrating with her fingers. “Yeah, a little.”