Page 14 of Captured By the Bratva

I nod, swallowing hard. “I just… I don’t know how to do that without him.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Caleb reassures me. “I’m here.”

I look at Caleb, his loyalty and kindness a small beacon of hope in this dark time. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says firmly. “I promised your father I’d take care of you, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

I offer him a weak smile, appreciating his support more than words can express. “Dad trusted you, and so do I.”

The silence of the mansion seems to close in around us, but Caleb’s presence is a comforting anchor. As I sit there, trying to make sense of my father’s death and the fear that seems to have surrounded him in his final days, I realize that I need to be vigilant. Whoever or whatever scared my father isn’t gone just because he is.

For now, I can only take things one step at a time, leaning on Caleb and the others who offer their support. It’s a daunting path ahead, but I know my father’s strength lives on in me. And with that thought, I find a small measure of peace amidst the chaos of my grief.

“Caleb,” I say after a long silence. “Do you think the threats had anything to do with his death?”

Caleb’s eyes darken, and he takes a deep breath. “No, I don’t. Doctors said it was natural causes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t overthink it. Grieving takes time, and you shouldn’t push yourself too hard.” He pauses, face twisting. “You need to be extra careful, though. Although it’s possible the enemy got satisfaction from Jeff’s death, you could still be targeted.”

I sit silently, absorbing his words. The idea that someone might still want to harm me is terrifying. After a few moments, I decide to voice another concern that has been gnawing at me since the funeral. “Caleb, there’s something else. The man who came to the funeral today, Kirill Sharov—who is he?”

Caleb’s expression darkens further, and he sighs. “Kirill Sharov is a Mafia boss. Your father collaborated with him a couple of times, strictly for business. They were never close. For Kirill to show up at the funeral like that… it’s… unusual.”

I shiver at the thought. “Why would he come, then? What does he want?”

Caleb shakes his head, his face troubled. “I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling about this. Kirill Sharov is not someone you want to be involved with. He’s dangerous, Violet. You need to stay away from him if you ever come across him again.”

I nod, feeling a mixture of fear and confusion. The idea that my father had dealings with a Mafia boss is hard enough to swallow, but the fact that Kirill might have some interest in me is even more unsettling. “Why would my father trust someone like him?” I wonder aloud.

“Jeff was always careful,” Caleb says. “He wouldn’t have worked with Kirill unless he thought it was necessary. It’s possible Kirill saw an opportunity with Jeff’s death. You need to be vigilant.”

Just as I’m about to ask more questions, Caleb’s phone rings. He glances at the screen, his expression growing even more serious. “I need to take this,” he says, standing up. “Stay here, and don’t open the door for anyone you don’t know. I’ll be back soon.”

He steps out of the house, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The silence feels heavier now, filled with the weight of all the new information. I walk to the window and watch Caleb pacing outside, talking on his phone. His presence is reassuring, but the uncertainty of my situation is overwhelming.

I think about Kirill again, his piercing eyes and commanding presence. He left an indelible imprint on my mind, and despite Caleb’s warnings, I can’t shake the feeling that our paths will cross again. The thought both frightens and intrigues me.

As I stand there, lost in thought, I can’t help but feel grateful for Caleb. Without him, I would be utterly lost. My relatives have already started circling like vultures, eager to manipulate me and seize control of my father’s wealth.

Caleb finishes his call and returns to the house, his face set with determination. “Everything okay?” I ask, hoping for some reassurance.

“For now,” he replies. “We need to be cautious. I’ve got some people looking into things. We’ll know more soon.”

I nod, feeling a bit more at ease. “Oh. Okay.”

I try to focus on the small comforts. Caleb’s unwavering support, the memories of my father’s love, and the strength I know I have within me. It’s a difficult path ahead, but I’m determined to navigate it with the same resilience my father always admired in me.

I retreat to my room, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on me. The mansion feels empty and vast, but knowing Caleb is here makes it a little less daunting. I settle into bed, but sleep evades me.

My mind is a whirl of thoughts and questions about my father, the threats he faced, and the enigmatic presence of Kirill Sharov.

Just as I begin to drift into a fitful sleep, my phone buzzes with a notification. I sit up, my heart racing as I see a message from an unknown number. Hesitating for a moment, I open the message.

We need to talk. It’s important. – Kirill

I shiver. Kirill. Of course, he would find a way to contact me. My first instinct is to call Caleb, to have him handle this. Something stops me. He knows something. If he’s reaching out to me directly, it must be crucial.

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