Page 93 of Sexting my Bratva Daddies

It had taken every bit of my self-restraint to stay away from them when we were several states apart.

I’d barely held back from throwing myself into their arms the way Luka did with Misha.

Five years of practice and it still took everything I had to keep my feet planted.

My body remembered them without asking my permission, which was inconvenient as my core tightened and my cheeks heated in that old, familiar way.

I’d missed them to the point of pain every single fucking day, but I hadn’t given in because protecting Luka mattered more than my own wants and dreams.

But now, the man who’d kidnapped me was dead. The threat against us was gone… until the next empire decided to go up against Leo.

Misha stood with Luka in his arms, holding my gaze the entire time. “Give us another chance.” His voice shivered through me, the brokenness showing up again in the gravely rasp. “Please.”

Oh, God. Five years of missing them like a phantom ache. Years of telling myself I’d made the right call, and this was all it took to break me.

My throat closed.

Luka patted Misha’s cheek again, already unbothered, already certain he’d found his new best friend. He pressed his forehead into Misha’s neck and yawned so wide, his whole face scrunched.

I pressed my fingers into my mouth to keep from blurting out a response based on that alone.

Mom touched my elbow. “Peyton.”

“I know.” I couldn’t look away from Misha, and I leaned into her support while I bolstered my courage to tell them no.

Viktor stood in front of me, to my right, his eyes locked on me. They’d perfected the angsty stare years ago, and I’d almost forgotten how the weight of it could settle on me and draw my lungs tight.

Leo hadn’t moved from where he’d stopped, three feet away, giving me room but close enough that I smelled his expensive cologne. God, I’d missed that smell. They waited, all three of them trying to be patient.

Men who had never asked for anything but who went down to their knees for me. For our son.

“Mom.”

“I know, baby.”

“Say it.” I grabbed her hand.

She exhaled. “You know what I’m going to say.”

“Say it anyway.” I needed reality. I needed my parents to bring me back to earth instead of leaning into the fantasy of returning to New York.

She took both my hands and squeezed. “That little boy is going to ask questions one day. Questions you can’t answer alone.” She glanced at Misha, at Luka’s dark head tucked into his neck. “Those men might be the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen. They say they took care of the problem. Do you believe that?”

“Yes.” I sighed. “They wouldn’t lie to me.”

“Not even to get you to come back?” Dad moved close enough that he very nearly bumped into Viktor.

Leo’s eyebrows shot up so high, it took years off his age.

I hid a snorting laugh in a cough. “Ask them. You always told me I was a good judge of character. I got it from you. So you tell me.”

Dad harrumphed, crossed his arms, and leaned toward Leo. “You put her in danger.”

“Yes.” Leo didn’t bother even trying to make an excuse. “We didn’t intend to, but that does not change what happened.”

“You let my pregnant daughter get kidnapped.” Dad poked Leo in the chest.

I hadn’t told him about the power dynamic, but he’d picked out Leo as the leader within seconds and he went in for the kill with another poke.