Page 109 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva
They both laugh with me, but it’s not mean. It’s love. It’s home.
Zoe nudges me gently. “And now?”
I glance down at my belly, resting a protective hand over it. “Now I’m four months pregnant, hopelessly in love, and…still trying to believe it’s all real.”
Zoe leans over and rests her head on my shoulder. “It’s real, Vi. And you’ve always been stronger than you thought.”
I swallow, emotions thick in my throat. “It’s just nice to feel like myself again.”
Jennie reaches for my hand. “You’re not the same you, babe. You’re something more now. You’re Violet Rusnak.”
I blink. The name hits me like lightning in the chest. I glance at the wedding ring on my finger. The one I found quietly there after I woke up on the plane three weeks ago.
“Slow down, Jennie. We’re not married yet.”
“But in two weeks you’ll be.” She rolls her eyes. “I might as well call you a Rusnak. I can’t believe we’ll be sister-in-laws.”
I laugh as Jennie and Zoe gush about how it is such a coincidence that all three of them end up with a Bratva lord. My joy would have been complete if Noelle were here. But she’s in Italy right now, and we talk every day. I’ve been trying to get her to tell me what she wanted to say that fateful day before Kaz interrupted.
“Violet, there’s something you need to know about me. I am not just—”
Words I’ve held on to. She promised to tell me everything when she returns from Italy in a few months. She’s happy that I’ve found my peace with Kaz, but she doesn’t understand how I can love a man who kidnapped me. Though she doesn’t ask too many questions.
We stay in the garden longer than we should. The breeze has stilled, the shade has shifted, and the sun is now beating down with a vengeance. Jennie fans herself with a linen napkin while Zoe squints up at the sky.
“Alright,” Zoe groans. “This glow is about to turn into a sunburn. Let’s go inside before my skin sues me.”
We gather our plates and drinks, chatting idly as we head toward the house, our laughter trailing behind us. I feel warm. Not just from the sun, but from something else—something fuller and lighter inside my chest. Like peace. Or healing.
As we step into the foyer, the sound of laughter greets us—deep, rich, masculine laughter.
Zoe slows, glancing at me with a raised brow. Jennie smirks knowingly.
We turn the corner and find them.
Kaz, leaning against the marble pillar with that rare, relaxed posture he only wears around people he trusts. Beside him stands Lukin, the tall, broad-shouldered man who always walks like he’s five seconds from ordering an execution. And on Kaz’s other side, there’s Adrian—his brother—grinning wide with mischief in his eyes.
The three men are talking, joking, their voices low but animated.
“—and I’m telling you,” Adrian says, clapping Kaz on the back, “you ended the entire Solokov network. In one night. I’m still mad you called Niko and not me. That fucking bastard.”
Kaz chuckles. “Because they touched what was mine.”
Lukin lets out a bark of laughter. “It’s great to see you like this. Just months ago, you were mocking Adrian—said love made a man weak.”
“I’d do it again,” Kaz says simply.
That makes all three of them burst out laughing. Deep, knowing, brotherly laughter—the kind that carries shared blood, history, and scars.
I feel the heat bloom in my cheeks again. Zoe nudges me with her elbow.
“I think that’s our cue,” she whispers.
Jennie links her arm with mine, and we start toward the staircase. “Let the mafia boys have their bonding moment.”
We drift away, leaving the men to their low voices and dark drinks.
Upstairs, we settle into the sitting room just off the main hallway. One of the maids brings more snacks—mini éclairs, hot tea, and a fruit platter so fresh that it still glistens. The girls make me lie back on the couch while they lounge like we’re back in college, gossiping about everyone from ex-boyfriends to Bratva heads.
