Novel & Cerita Christmas Bratayley

“Change.” My brows scrunch. “What?” He sets the shopping bag down slowly like they were fragile before leaning against the edge of my table and damn....he looks so good. “You’re my plus one, Kratoska.” He cocks his head, voice deepening. “My date.” I felt my belly flutter with excitement and also nerves. “Your plus one?” He nods. “There’s a fundraiser dinner. Bratva business that involves powerful faces and important investors.” Just from hearing the word ‘Bratva’, my stomach twisted into knots as the contents of the flash drive flashes into my head.

Although it was too big, I looked like a cute baby in his warm coat. I couldn't stop myself from wrapping my arm around his, resting my head on his shoulder. Okay, maybe my Bratva husband isn't that bad, I guess he can be a sweet boy at times too. T. B. C!

Wyatt It was Christmas Eve and Bri was baking up a storm, the scent of it drove my stomach into knots. I had been charged with cleaning out the smoker and grill so we could entertain our ‘guests.’ I can’t say I was pleased to find out that an entire pack had been invited to tomorrow's Christmas dinner. Still, I tolerated the idea with mild grumpiness which got my cheek pinched and made her pretty eyes narrow at me in disapproval which forced my complaints to take a backseat. She made me feel like a toddler throwing a quiet tantrum in my mind as I set about the task with Claude as my helper. Only here because he got kicked out of the kitchen for nabbing one too many sweets. This evening we wo

He'd been meticulous, checking every tag. "You didn't peek, did you?" I asked, settling onto the couch. "No! Santa said peeking means no presents next year!" "Smart man, that Santa," Braham murmured, sitting beside me. The next hour was chaos in the best way. Leo tore through his presents with the enthusiasm of a small tornado—dragon toys, art supplies, books, the elaborate castle set Braham had spent three hours assembling on Christmas Eve while Leo slept. "This is the BEST Christmas EVER!" Leo announced, already building his castle.

She should have embraced the little girl before the latter became corrupted by feelings of loneliness and want of affection. Now, Sofia was just like any other bitter teenager out there. Coming out of the kitchen, Nathan was fiddling with his gifts. Henry had gone out of his way to make Nathan's experience a beautiful one. There were so many gifts stacked around the Christmas tree. "Merry Christmas, Layla." He smiled. "Merry Christmas," I was still awed at the tree. It was so beautiful. "You deserve a reward for this...this is beautiful...do you love Durian pies, I will make an entire sack for you..."

“Or what? Will you take the lamp too?” “You are very proud for a girl with no power here,” she said. “But you need to understand that surviving a debt after being dragged into a Bratva mansion is an endurance, and not some victory that you need to celebrate. In this place, you have the right to be alive,” she snapped, patience cracking. “If you want to keep that right in this house, stop acting as if pride can fill your stomach.” “You don’t care if I eat,” I said. “You care because he ordered you to make sure I did. You don’t need to pretend otherwise.”

They’re not taking risks with drinking and driving. My mom says they’re too old to accompany a group of youngsters to a nightclub and that she’ll feel out of place. The lucky task of babysitting falls on Bart and Celeste. Celeste will leave Brady Boy with her parents for the weekend. Bart and Celeste are calling him Brady now that he’s reached the milestone of walking. My sister-in-law has strange rituals.

They froze. Snow fell around them. Her hair brushed his jaw. His hands were on her waist. “You’re heavy,” he said. “You’re lying,” she shot back. For a heartbeat, everything else disappeared. Then— “DAAAADDYYYY!” Noelle slid into them like a missile. Sebastian groaned. Nyra burst out laughing. “This,” Nyra said between laughs, “is the best Christmas I’ve had in years.” Sebastian stood, brushing snow off. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“But, sir, it’ll take some time to find her size. I’ll…" “Let her wear Serena’s clothes; I’m sure they fit her.” "Sir?” my maid’s voice was soft, stunned, demanding. It had been a long time since she heard me say that name. “I won’t repeat my orders twice, Ella! Don’t let Irina get cold,” I said again. Ella bowed her head lower. “I obey, sir,” she said, and hurried after Irina. I am Miron Pavlov, the current leader of the Bratva that controls Brooklyn. My job isn’t as glamorous as the Armani suit I wear to the office; it’s more obscure. It’s just a facade, but my real business lies underground.