Page 11 of Captured By the Bratva

The rest of the funeral passes in a blur. I hear snippets of conversations, see flashes of familiar faces, but it all feels surreal. I lean on Uncle Joe for support, his steady presence a lifeline in my turbulent emotions. When the service finally ends, the mourners begin to disperse, offering their condolences one last time.

Caleb stays back, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if expecting trouble. I approach him, needing answers. “Caleb, what’s going on? Why are you so tense?”

He looks at me, his eyes filled with an unspoken burden. “Violet, I wish I could tell you more, but I know as much as you do. Just trust that your father had his reasons for everything.”

Frustration bubbles up inside me, but I nod, knowing that pressing him further won’t get me anywhere. “Okay,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Promise me you’ll stay close. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Of course.”

I sigh and turn away, watching as the mourners begin to filter out, offering their final condolences before making their way to their cars. The weight of their sympathetic glances and whispered words presses heavily on me, but I manage to nod and thank each one, my responses automatic.

Uncle Joe and Caleb are the last to leave, lingering nearby as if unsure whether they should go. Uncle Joe looks at me, his eyes filled with concern. “Violet, are you sure you want to be alone right now?”

I nod, forcing a small smile. “Yes, Uncle Joe. I just need a moment by myself.”

He hesitates, clearly torn, but eventually nods. “Alright, sweetheart. We’ll be just over there by the car if you need anything.”

Caleb gives me a lingering look, his expression a mix of worry and reluctance. “I’ll stay within sight, okay? If you need me, just call out.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, grateful for their understanding.

Uncle Joe and Caleb walk to the car, leaving me alone by the graveside. Caleb stands by the car, his eyes never leaving me, a silent sentinel ensuring my safety. I turn back to my father’s grave, the loneliness of the moment settling over me like a heavy blanket.

The cemetery is quiet now, the earlier murmur of voices replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant call of birds. I kneel down, running my fingers over the cold, freshly turned earth. The reality of my father’s death hits me with full force, and I feel the tears welling up again.

“Dad,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “I don’t know how to do this without you. You were always there, even when we fought, even when things were tough. You always knew what to say, what to do.”

I brush a tear from my cheek, the grief overwhelming. “I’m so sorry for all the times I didn’t listen, for all the times I let my stubbornness get in the way. I hope you knew how much I loved you, how much you meant to me.”

The tears flow freely now, and I make no attempt to stop them. “I’ll miss you every day. Your laughter, your advice, even your lectures. I don’t know what to do without you.”

I place a hand on the gravestone, my fingers tracing the engraved letters of his name. “I promise I’ll try to be strong, to carry on the way you would have wanted. It’s so hard, Dad. It’s so damn hard.”

I let out a sob, my shoulders shaking with the intensity of my grief. The world feels emptier, lonelier without him. I don’t know how to move forward, how to find a new normal in a life that’s been irrevocably changed.

Behind me, I can sense Caleb watching, his presence a silent comfort. He’s keeping his distance, respecting my need for solitude, but I know he’s there if I need him. That thought brings a small measure of solace, a reminder that I’m not entirely alone in this.

“Goodbye, Dad,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I love you.”

I stay there for a while longer, letting the tears come, allowing myself to feel the full weight of my loss. The pain is raw and deep, but I know that somehow, I’ll have to find a way to live with it. To honor my father’s memory by living the kind of life he would have wanted for me.

When I finally stand, my legs are shaky, and my heart feels heavy. I take one last look at the grave, then turn and make my way back to the car. Caleb straightens up as I approach, his eyes filled with understanding and concern.

“Are you ready?” he asks softly.

I nod, even as I feel tears prickle my eyes all over again. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

Chapter Six - Kirill

As we drive away from the cemetery, the rain begins to fall more steadily, creating a rhythmic pattern on the car roof. Dimitri is at the wheel, navigating the streets with his usual efficiency. I sit in the back, staring out the window, lost in thought.

Violet Harrison. Even in her grief, she managed to captivate my attention. She stood out in the crowd with her natural beauty, her expressive brown eyes filled with sorrow, and her long hair that framed her face perfectly. She wore no makeup, her skin pale and flawless against the black of her mourning clothes. Despite her sadness, there was a strength in her posture, a quiet resilience that intrigued me.

Dimitri glances at me in the rearview mirror, a smirk playing on his lips. “She’s quite the looker, isn’t she?” he says, his tone light. “I’ll love this job.”

His words snap me out of my reverie, and a surge of irritation flares up inside me. Dimitri’s excited expression only fuels my anger. This is not just a job; it’s a serious responsibility. One that I cannot afford to take lightly.

I lean forward, my voice cold and authoritative. “This is not a job for you to enjoy, Dimitri. This is about protecting her, ensuring her safety. Make no mistake, I will handle this one myself.”

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