Page 58 of Bratva Wolf

I raise Red off the bed so Isabella can set down a sterile blanket that will absorb any liquid. Setting her down, Isabella checks Red’s status and smiles broadly. “We’re very close.”

My eyes bulge out of my head. “Close? How close?”

Forty-five minutes later, I carry my newborn son out into our living room to a room full of Bravikovs.

Papa jumps up from his seat and greets us. “He’s beautiful, son. What’s his name?”

I beam. “We decided to follow the trend and give him a family name. This is Theodore Cynric after Scarlet’s oldest brother.” I nod at Cynric. “And mine.”

Papa pulls my son from my arms. “He’s a fine boy. He and Fyodor will be close like brothers.”

Cynric nods. “I can only imagine how much trouble our sons will get into.”

Papa hands him back, and I smile at my son. My father hugs me for the first time in a decade. “I’m proud of you, Thane. You’re the man your mother always thought you’d be.”

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