Page 65 of Bratva Boss's Secret Baby

Nikandr.

I push myself up from the table, clutching the letter in my trembling hand, and make my way through the house toward his office. Each step feels surreal, like I’m walking through a dream where impossible things become reality.

He did this without asking permission, without demanding gratitude, or without using it as leverage to manipulate me into compliance. He simply saw a burden I was carrying and removed it.

The magnitude of the gesture threatens to overwhelm me completely.

I knock on his office door and wait for his gruff invitation to enter before stepping inside. He’s seated behind his massive desk, surrounded by financial documents and legal papers that probably represent the dismantling of his empire. The ultrasound photo of our daughter sits prominently in the center of it all, a reminder of what he’s choosing over everything else.

When he looks up and sees my face, his expression immediately shifts to concern. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

I hold up the letter, my hand still shaking slightly. “The hospital contacted me today.”

His body goes very still, and I watch his jaw tighten almost imperceptibly. “About what?”

“My mother’s debt. All twelve thousand dollars of it.” I move closer to his desk, studying his face for any sign of guilt or acknowledgment. “It’s been paid in full…by someone who apparently wishes to remain anonymous.”

He doesn’t deny it, deflect, or make excuses. He simply leans back in his chair and watches me with those gray eyes that seem to see straight through to my soul.

“You did this.” It’s not a question.

“Yes.”

The simple admission hits me harder than any elaborate explanation could have. He seems to have no expectation of gratitude. It’s just the quiet acceptance of responsibility for an act of profound kindness.

“Why?”

“Because you shouldn’t have to carry that weight anymore.” He sets aside the document he was reviewing and gives me his full attention. “Watching you stress about money when I have more than I could spend in ten lifetimes seemed wrong.”

I blink back tears. “You could have told me you were planning to do it.”

“Would you have let me?”

We both know the answer. I would have refused. My pride would have demanded I handle my own problems, even if handling them meant drowning slowly in debt I’d never be able to repay. “Probably not.” I sniffle.

“I didn’t want to give you the chance to say no to something that would make your life easier.”

Tears scald my eyes as I grasp what he’s done. This isn’t about money. It’s about seeing me clearly enough to understand what keeps me awake at night and caring enough to fix it without expecting anything in return. “Besides my mom, no one has ever...” I start, then stop, struggling to find words for something I’ve never experienced before.

He lifts a brow. “Has ever what?”

I sniffle hard, determined not to cry. “Taken care of me like this without wanting something back or making it about what they need or expect from me.”

The honesty in my voice seems to affect him more than I expected. He pushes back from his desk and stands, moving around to where I’m standing with careful, deliberate steps. “Come here.” His voice is gentler than I’ve ever heard it.

I move into his arms without hesitation, letting him pull me against his chest while I finally allow myself to really feel the relief of being free from that crushing financial burden. The tears I’ve been holding back spill over, and I don’t try to stop them this time. “Thank you,” I whisper against his shirt. “Thank you for caring enough to do something about this.”

He tightens his arms around me. “You never have to thank me for taking care of you. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Is it?”

“For the rest of our lives, if you’ll let me.”

The promise in his words makes my chest ache with a longing so intense it’s almost painful. I pull back to look at his face, seeing something there I’ve only glimpsed before—complete and utter devotion. He’s said he loves me, but I feel it intensely suddenly.

“I want this,” I say, my voice stronger now. “Not just peaceful co-parenting or keeping things civil for the baby’s sake. I want a real family. A real future. Something that’s ours.”

“So do I.” He cups my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears on my cheeks.

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