Page 62 of Bratva’s Vow (Bratva’s Undoing #2)

“I’m still mad you let me think you didn’t get me anything,” I murmured, unable to look at him without turning into goo.

He looked up, smug as ever. “Thought I’d call your bluff this time.”

“Well, congrats. I panicked.”

He laughed and pressed a kiss to my cheek, then the corner of my mouth. “You’re too easy.”

I looped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer until our foreheads touched. “You love how easy I am. It takes nothing but you walking into a room for me to drop my thong for you.”

“Yes, I love how my slutty husband doesn’t hesitate to get fucked.” He kissed me again, this time slow. Soft. Full of that quiet, terrifying kind of love I was still learning how to hold.

Then he pulled back, eyes glinting. “You still want to know what we’re doing today?”

I narrowed my eyes. “You mean there’s more?”

His smile widened. “Finish your coffee. Then let’s hit the shower so I can stick my tongue inside your sweet ass. After, we’ll go for a drive.”

We drove for a while out of the city. My hand rested on Maxim’s thigh, thumb tracing little circles over his jeans as I tried to figure out where we were going and why we had to leave Jellybean behind.

I started to get a feeling.

That soft, aching one in the pit of your chest when something meaningful is coming, and your body knows before your mind catches up.

This road…

My throat closed up as I realized where we were headed. The quiet gates of the cemetery soon came into view, weathered but sturdy, flanked by tall hedges and draped in early-spring sunlight. My chest tightened instantly.

I turned to Maxim, who was watching me. Waiting.

“This is…” My voice cracked.

Sergei parked the car, but neither Maxim nor I moved. This was the last place I’d expected him to bring me for my birthday. Too many memories.

“We don’t have to stay long.” Maxim reached over and gently laced our fingers. “I just thought after waiting for years, it’d be nice to spend some time on your birthday with your father.”

I swallowed hard, the tightness in my throat almost unbearable. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I had to blink them away rapidly.

“Shit, maybe this was a bad idea. We can leave. I didn’t mean to?—”

I threw my arms around Maxim’s neck. He caught me, pulling me closer and burying his face in my hair. His hands curled tight around my spine like he’d needed the hug too.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “You didn’t have to bring me, but I’m so glad you did. This is the best birthday gift.”

“Let’s go.”

When we stepped out, the breeze was soft and warm, rustling the grass. The scent of wildflowers and morning sun hung in the air. I would have thought that coming back here, my heart would be heavy with grief. Instead, a sense of peace washed over me.

Side by side, we walked through the neat rows of headstones. Maxim’s hand stayed in mine the whole way, his thumb stroking slow arcs against my skin.

We reached the gravesite.

My mom’s name, etched into smooth granite. Familiar. Comforting in its own quiet way.

And beside hers, the smaller stone. My dad’s urn had been buried there two months ago, after I was discharged from the hospital. Maxim and I had chosen the words on the plaque together. Still, seeing it again today , hit differently.

Maxim didn’t speak but let me stand there with it.

“Hey, Mom… Dad, I’m back,” I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath in the wind.

I didn’t believe they could hear me, but it was comforting to let out what was inside my heart.

“You have no idea how much I miss you. At least you have each other now, and I’m not alone.

” I smiled at Maxim, squeezing his hand.

“I’m really happy. The happiest I’ve ever been.

I know I may not be what you wanted me to be, but I hope you’ll still be proud of me. ”

Tears filled my eyes again, but they were bittersweet ones. Happiness mingled with sorrow in the most intense way. Sometimes it was hard to appreciate the magnitude of my current happiness without mourning what I'd lost, but it was becoming easier, especially with the closure I had.

Maxim stepped closer to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as if trying to shield me from the past heartaches that seemed to hang heavier in the cemetery air. I turned to him, stood on the tip of my toes, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I didn’t realize I needed this. ”

He squeezed my waist. “As long as I’m able, I’ll bring you every birthday, if you want.”

I nodded. I wanted that very much. More than an expensive bracelet or a fancy sports car.

We stood there for a long while, not speaking. The wind moved softly around us, the leaves rustling like whispers.

I didn’t feel heavy. I didn’t feel hollow.

For the first time, this day didn’t feel like a scar.

It felt like a promise.

A vow.

Not the kind spoken once and forgotten. But the kind you live out in pancakes and anklets with trackers in them and long drives to say hello to ghosts.

Thanks for reading Bratva’s Vow. I’d appreciate if you would leave a review here. Don’t forget to check out the next book in the series here.