Page 111 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva

He had promised to end them all—for touching me, for marking our lives with blood—and he wouldn’t rest until the last Solokov was gone.

I understood. And I let him go.

For one week.

He hunted the Solokov son across cities, borders, oceans. And last night, he set the trap. Last night, he went to finish it. He should be home soon.

I close my eyes and rest my cheek against Lev’s head. His little breath puffs warm against my collarbone. I hold him closer, my heart pulsing with the kind of love that makes a woman dangerous.

If Kaz doesn’t return…if they take him from us—no. I don’t let my thoughts go there. Kaz will come back. He always does.

And this time…for good.

As I struggle to hold myself together, the door creaks open. I whirl, a gasp leaving my lips when Kaz walks in, shirtless, his tattoos stark and glistening against the low glow of the chandelier. His boots leave muddy prints on the hardwood, his presence larger than life even in silence. The scent of rain and gunpowder clings to him like a second skin.

My eyes immediately drop to his hands—torn knuckles, blood crusting along his fingers, raw and angry. He drinks me in, his eyes full of love and hunger. I can question many things in the world, but never his love for me.

I lift my gaze to meet his. “How was the fight?”

He gives me a tired, crooked smile. “It’s over.”

He takes a step closer, but I lift my hand to stop him.

“Promise me,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Before you come any closer. That it’s the last time. No more blood. No more violence.”

Kaz stills. The storm behind his eyes begins to settle. He nods slowly, solemnly. “I promise.”

I hold out one arm, and he crosses the room like a man starved of touch. I melt into him, burying my face in his chest. His heart is beating so hard beneath my cheek.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “for letting me go.”

I don't speak. I don't need to. I understand. A soft whimper draws our attention, and we both look down at the bundle in my arms.

Lev.

Kaz lifts our son in his arms. The baby sighs in his sleep, his tiny hand curling into Kaz’s chest.

“Lev missed his father,” I say softly.

Kaz breathes out slowly, emotion thick in the air. He holds our baby like he’s holding the whole world.

Outside, it starts to rain. It begins as a whisper, then builds into a steady rhythm against the windows, softening the night around us.

Kaz turns toward me, Lev cradled in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, everything is still.

Everything is safe.

Everything is perfect.

“I love you,” he says. “I’m ready to live for you. From now until the end of my days.”

*****

THE END