Page 91 of Vendetta Crown

Ruslan pulls back, concern flashing across his face. "What is it?"

I grab his hand and press it firmly against the curve of my belly, holding my breath.

"Here." I whisper, my voice trembling with awe.

Ruslan goes completely still, his golden eyes widening as understanding dawns. His palm spreads flat against my belly, warm through the thin fabric of my blouse.

The world narrows down to just us—to his hand on my stomach and the shared anticipation hanging in the air between us.

One heartbeat passes. Then another. And then another.

Finally, it happens again.

That unmistakable flutter beneath my skin, stronger this time, as if our children know their father is right here next to them.

A soft gasp escapes Ruslan's lips, and when I look up, tears are welling in his eyes.

"Is that…" he whispers, his voice cracking. His fingers tremble slightly against my belly. "Aurora, is that them?"

The complete awe in his voice breaks something open inside me. For a man who commands an entire bratva with unwavering strength, who faced down death multiple times, to be so utterly undone by this small miracle—it's almost too much.

"Yes," I choke out, my own tears spilling over. "I felt it earlier, but I thought it was just my emotions. But it's them, Ruslan. It's our babies."

Ruslan drops to his knees right there in the screening room, both hands now framing my belly, his forehead pressed gently against the curve where our children grow.

He whispers to them reverently in soft, shushing Russian, sending another flutter rippling beneath my skin in response.

The moment he feels that, he lets out a sound that's half a laugh and half a sob.

I thread my fingers through his golden-brown curls, my heart so full I can barely breathe. After everything we've endured—the violence, the fear, the near-misses with death—this moment feels sacred.

"We're going to be parents," I whisper, my voice so soft it barely disturbs the air between us. "It's really happening."

Ruslan remains on his knees before me, his hands spread protectively over my belly. His golden eyes are wet with tears, and I've never seen anything more beautiful than this powerful man marveling at the tiny lives we've created together.

"Our children," he murmurs back, his voice thick with emotion. "Ourchildren,zarechka."

Another flutter pulses beneath my skin, and I gasp. It's like they know we're talking about them, acknowledging their existence in a way that transcends every other moment before this.

"I think they're saying hi." I laugh softly, covering his hands with mine.

When Ruslan looks up at me, the reverence in his gaze takes my breath away. The protectiveness in his eyes now burns hotter than I've ever seen it before.

"This changes everything," he says, rising to his feet but keeping his hands on my belly. "Everything. All of what we do matters more now than ever."

I nod, feeling the weight of his words settle into my bones. "I know."

Our eyes lock in silent understanding. The stakes have never been higher. This isn't just about my trauma or Ruslan's war or even the future of theVori.

It's about shaping the new world for our children. To make sure that they will never live the traumas that we did.

"We have to win," I whisper fiercely. "For them."

One of our babies kicks again, stronger this time, as if in agreement.

"We will win," Ruslan promises, his words carrying the weight of an oath. "I promise you that."

He pulls me closer, pressing his forehead against mine, our hands still joined over our children. We stand like that for a long moment, the silence between us more powerful than words could ever be.

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