AnnaThe table erupts into greetings for Viktor, who bows appreciatively and does his best to redirect the attention to his mother. It's sweet, endearing even, to see him momentarily stop being Bratva Boss and become Tetushka Mila's "sweet nephew."It's even more fun to hear their endless comments about how he better treat me like a queen if he doesn't want his ears boxed in by his uncles and cousins.He seems so at ease here. I like watching him like this. Calm, confident, poised, but not working the way he seems to be sometimes. He rests his arm on the back of my chair and happily answers questions about our daughter's health, growth, trimester stage, all of it. I almost catch him smiling once or twice.I turn to Asya to ask her a question about plans for next week... when I see the look on her face.She's pale.Wide-eyed.Frozen.Viktor notices, too, and soon the whole table follows her shocked stare to see what—or who—has her so spooked.The man casually approaching us with a deva
Magbasa pa
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