Page 121 of Auctioned to My Bratva Boss

He flipped the pan with one hand, the motion so smooth it looked effortless. The golden egg mixture did a perfect somersault mid-air.

Behind him, the dining table displayed a spread worthy of a five-star hotel—perfectly cooked eggs Benedict, fresh fruit salad, and artfully arranged croissants straight from the oven.

His expression was focused and calm, as if commanding this tiny kitchen was no different from commanding his empire.

That apron—Lillian had insisted he wear it. The goofy cartoon bear on his chest nearly made me burst out laughing.

"Don't laugh." He didn't even look up, as if he had eyes in the back of his head. "Laugh again, and you're not getting any."

"I didn't say a word." I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe, though I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. "Mr. Bykov, I had no idea you had this in you."

"It's nothing." He flicked his wrist, sliding the golden egg onto a plate with a flourish, then sprinkled herbs on top. "You've taken care of me and the kids for so long."

Morning light softened his features—made him look almost gentle. My heart melted.

This man could crush a family at the negotiating table without breaking a sweat, could walk away from gunfire without a scratch, and could whip up a breakfast that looked magazine-perfect.

Then again, that was just him—whatever he decided to do, he did flawlessly.

I walked over and wrapped my arms around him from behind.

"Thank you." I pressed my cheek against his warm back.

His plating paused for a second.

Then he turned, pulled me close, and stole a quick kiss.

"Breakfast for a kiss." He chuckled low, his breath grazing my ear. "That's a fair trade."

"Daddy's kissing Mommy!"

Lillian had snuck back in, covering her eyes but peeking through her fingers, giggling hysterically.

"Niko! Come look!"

My face burned. I lunged for the two little troublemakers, but they shrieked and bolted.

Matvey watched the scene, his eyes brimming with tenderness.

This was our home. Chaotic, crazy, but warm enough to bring tears.

We gathered around the table. Matvey had already ditched the pink bear apron, slipping back into his commanding presence. But right now, he was refereeing an all-out war over seating.

"I want to sit next to Mommy!" Niko scrambled onto the chair to my right.

"No, it's my turn today!" Lillian practically climbed onto my left arm.

Matvey said nothing. Just gave them one look.

One look. The two tornadoes froze mid-fight, sat up straight, and folded their hands in their laps.

I nearly choked on my coffee. Those gray-green eyes that could terrorize an entire crime syndicate—now their greatest purpose was settling seating disputes between three-year-olds.

"One on each side." He laid down the law like closing a negotiation. "Any objections?"

The two exchanged glances, then answered in unison. "No!"

I couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing.