The Don And His Flower

51

Five months.

Valis looked at the monitor, his wife's larger belly aching with a needed rub. In shock, the expecting parents followed the index finger of the Kholodov family doctor.

Twins.

Two baby girls.

Valis kissed the tips of his woman's fingers. His eyes twinkled as he observed such beauty in her reactions. She sniffled, smiling wide as she squeezed his hand once more. Her nerves shot through the roof as the doctor continued to explain the two beings inside her were in fact real. The Russian mobster has made it an unspoken goal for him to make this his wife's safest pregnancy. Especially since it wasn't just one child, she was carrying inside of her. No, it wasn't.

Twins.

Imani was having twins.

Her head spun with anxiety, rushing nerves. Imani finally sighed, watching the warm jelly get wiped off her skin.

This wasn't a dream.

She was bringing more babies into the world. Babies belonging to Valis and Imani, only. The feeling was overwhelming her, heart pounding as she felt the squeeze of her husband's hands on her. his silence words nearly deafening as she gave such a small nod in response.

He's there, next to her.

Valis won't be leaving her side. Not now, not ever.

"So as before, I will put you on an early request of being in bed." The doctor cleared his throat, scribbling away on different papers.

The mobster's wife bit back the roll of her eyes, giving a protestant soft sigh instead. Imani was a risk with her pregnancies. Not just by the severity of her past assaults, but due to the more important fact that she carried such fragility mentally and physically.

The woman's nerves rattled through her head, only giving small nods at the doctor. "Due to your recent history Mrs. Kholodov, I think it's better for you to restrain from activities that may cause you stress. You shouldn't worry for now, don't expect to be bedridden until you are around your late seven months."

The conversation continued for another few hours. Now Adeline sat in the comfort of her bed, wearing loose shorts and her husband's hoodie. She listened to the small curses from her husband as he tried to complete the task of building his babies cribs. The vision that she had in her head was so slowly becoming complete.

Their first born wasn't enough motivation.

Xander wasn't enough motivation for the Don.

His two little ones will definitely be more than enough for him to want to give up the underworld life.

Their young, yes. Yet, they've already lived life to the fullest.

Imani heard another curse come out in her husband's foreign tongue. Reaching between her lap, she held up the soft small sweater that was almost completed for one of her babies. Footsteps quickly came into the bedroom, her husband radiating with frustration as he gripped the thick stapled instructions for the crib.

"You okay, Valis?"

She bit back her smile. watching the man fall to his knees with his head on the edge of the bed. "I can't even read our damn language. They have all these words mixed up, I swear they used a crappy online translator or something."

The wife of one of his alliances had designed two beautiful cribs and bassinets for the expecting couple. But despite Imani's warning, Valis had made the request to have it shipped to their home in parts so he can build it himself. Now four hours in total, the don had struggled to keep the base from wobbling before it collapsed. "I did warn you, Val. Why don't you just paint Xander's crib light pink? Isn't that still built up?"

"Where is the troublemaker anyways? He's quite grown for a three-year-old."

"He's in the shower, made a mess from painting. Don't change the subject." Her hand tugged lightly on the few strands of his hair.

His defiant groan was muffled, almost cut off from the low ringing of his phone. The man had all intentions of ignoring it until it continued once again. Sitting up, he took the phone from his pocket, almost tensing up at the familiar name that was sprawled across from it.

"Go." She rubbed the back of his neck, accepting his kiss as he apologized with his eyes.

The man left his home, mid-summer heat hitting his face as he found himself standing beside several guards. On the side of the miles long gate, Valis stood beside an old mentor of his, Volodos.

On the dry grass with the occasional bee flying pass, Nikolai Kholodov remained pinned down. "My poimali ego na popytke pronicutes vnutr." The armed mentor spoke in a slight disappointment. We caught him trying to sneak in.

Nikolai succeeded in the definition of looking like pure shit. His hair was unkept, clothes torn with what valis hope was from the outer trees and branches. Skin blotched with filth. But the despising hatred in his younger brother's eyes is what caught his attention the most.

"Fuck you!" Nikolai failed to no end at his attempts at kicking his own brother. Every limb was pinned down. Valis sighed at the sight of his blood, almost grimacing at the threats he spewed out. "What do you do with me, bratt?" He grunted out a laugh, failing at his attempt to spit on the Dons's shoes. Brother.

"What do you do with me, now? What, do you lock me in the fucking basement? Let your pigs take turns on me before you fucking kill me? HUH?!" Valis looked at the remaining soldiers who awaited the Don's orders. "Y-You actually believe that these people stand with you? All the shit you have done just to have your bitch and our father's throne?!"

The pity was immense in Valis Kholodov. Everything his brother said, the words he threatened, he screamed. The venom that dripped from his eyes and lips. The tears that threatened to spill. All those emotions equated to one emotion.

Pain.

Nothing but pure pain is what he experienced.

Valis slightly tuned his brother's words out, ignoring such demeaning threats and insults.

"Bring him to the basement."