Page 107 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva

She exhales shakily, her cheeks flushed deeper, eyes glimmering. “Yes,” she says, barely audible. “I do.” Her voice trembles. “I love you too, Kaz. So much. I didn’t even know it until I thought I’d never see you again. And then—then I realized it’s always been you.”

Something shifts in me. Something deep and sacred.

I pull her closer and press my forehead to hers. “Then never leave me again.”

“I won’t,” she whispers. “Not unless you ask me to.”

“I’d rather die,” I say, fierce and low.

She smiles, shy and wrecked and beautiful. Eventually, her body stills. Her breaths slow. She drifts into sleep, her cheek pressed to my chest, one hand curled near her mouth.

I slip out carefully, reach for my jacket folded on the chair nearby. I’d kept it with me this entire time—through every betrayal, every fight, every moment she hated me.

The ring is still inside.

Simple. Classic. Platinum. A stone that catches the faint light.

I sit beside her and take her hand gently. Her fingers are soft, relaxed. She doesn’t stir.

“I bought this the night I brought you to the estate,” I whisper. “Before I even knew how badly I’d fuck it all up. But I’m happy you’re giving me another chance. I’ll savor this for life.”

I slip the ring onto her finger.

It fits perfectly.

She doesn’t move. She just breathes—steady and peaceful for the first time in a long time. I lower myself next to her again, resting my head on her stomach, both arms circling her waist.

“I love you,” I say quietly into the silence, with a quiet understanding that this is what peace feels like.

Chapter 27 – Violet

It’s been three weeks.

Three weeks since the nightmare.

Three weeks since I was dragged from my home and nearly sold like something less than human.

Three weeks since Kaz tore through the world to bring me back.

And now…I’m here. Alive. Safe. Loved.

And…four months pregnant.

The sun is warm on my skin as I lie back on the blanket spread across the grass in the Rusnak estate garden. The air smells like lemon trees and sugar. Kaz had the kitchen send out something sweet because I’ve been craving everything lately—fruit, pastries, him. He’s lounging beside me, shirt sleeves rolled up, pretending to read a book, but I can feel his eyes on me every few seconds.

He’s been like this since Mexico. Quietly protective. Always nearby. A hand on my lower back when we walk. A palm spread over my stomach when we sleep. Like he still can’t believe I’m here, in one piece. Like he still doesn’t trust the world to let me stay.

But today, the air is peaceful. My belly is round under my dress, and when I press my hand to it, I swear I feel a flutter—soft and reassuring.

I hear the click of the garden gate before I see them.

“Visitors?” I ask, sitting up a little straighter.

Kaz stands and dusts the grass from his pants. “Yes.”

Then I see them—two figures walking through the vine-covered archway.

Zoe. Jennie.