Page 34 of Hunted By the Masked BRATVA

Troskoy’s screams, or maybe just the memory of them, fade into the night. A final punctuation mark on a chapter that has bled too long.

As we turn back toward the car, my legs feel weightless. Hollow. Like the revenge has emptied me out instead of filling me.

“What happens now?” I ask.

Konstantin glances at me, eyes unreadable in the dark. “Now we live with what’s left.”

His answer shouldn’t sound like hope. But somehow, it does.

We drive away in silence, headlights carving through the fog, leaving behind nothing but ghosts and ashes.

Artur Troskoy’s story is over.

And ours, whatever we’re becoming, is just beginning.

Epilogue

Three Months Later

Konstantin

We're sitting on a beach in Montenegro, watching the sunset paint the sky in shades of orange and gold.

Emilia's wearing a simple white dress, her auburn hair loose around her shoulders. She's laughing at something on her laptop, some coding project she's working on for a legitimate tech company that has no idea what she's capable of. The Vasiliev’s never rang. Never utilised her skills for anything, and I grew a fuck load more respect for them for it.

Now I'm reading a book. Actually reading, not just skimming for information or looking for weaknesses. Reading for pleasure.

It's strange, this life. Peaceful. Normal.

I fucking love it.

"Hey." Emilia closes her laptop, turns to me with a smile. "Remember when you said you wanted to marry me someday?"

"I remember." I set down my book. "Why?"

She holds up her left hand, wiggling her bare ring finger. "I'm still waiting for the ring."

I laugh, pulling the small box from my pocket. "Funny you should mention that."

Her eyes widen. "You didn't."

"I did." I open the box, revealing a simple diamond ring. Nothing ostentatious. Just elegant and perfect, like her. "Emilia Markova, will you marry me?"

She's crying, smiling, laughing all at once. "Yes. God, yes."

I slide the ring onto her finger, then kiss her like it's the first time and the last time and every time in between.

When we break apart, she's grinning. "So when's the wedding?"

"Whenever you want. However you want." I tuck her hair behind her ear. "Although maybe we should use our real names this time."

"Real names." She tests the words. "Konstantin and Emilia Markova-Grinevsky."

"You're taking my name?"

"Of course I am." She kisses me again, soft and sweet. "You're my family now. The only family I need."

Family. I never thought I'd have that again. Never thought I deserved it.

But here, with Emilia in my arms and the rest of our lives stretching ahead of us, I finally believe it.

We survived The Hunt. Survived the Bratva. Survived everything that tried to break us.

And now we get to live.

That's the best revenge of all.