Page 19 of Captured By the Bratva

“Thank you,” I murmur, my voice thick with sleep.

“Rest now, Malyshka,” Kirill says softly. “You’re safe with me.”

Somehow, despite everything, I fall asleep, curled up in the passenger seat next to the man who both terrifies and intrigues me. The darkness outside mirrors the murky uncertainty of my situation, but for now, in this moment of fragile peace, I let go and surrender to the pull of sleep.

Chapter Ten - Kirill

Violet falls asleep, her fragile form curled up in the passenger seat, her breathing steady and soft. I keep my eyes on the road, my mind wandering to the events of the day. The sight of her breaking down, the fear and confusion in her eyes—it’s a stark reminder of the dangerous world she’s now a part of. Despite her defiance, she’s vulnerable, and that vulnerability stirs something protective within me.

As we reach her house, I gently park the car and turn off the engine. The sudden silence stirs her, and she begins to wake, blinking sleepily. The moment she realizes where she is, the events of the day come crashing back. She starts sobbing again, her shoulders shaking with the force of her emotions.

I turn to her, my expression stern but calm. “Violet, listen to me,” I say firmly. “If you want to remain safe, you need to follow my rules. There’s no other way.”

She doesn’t respond, her sobs the only sound in the car. I reach into my coat pocket and pull out the letter her father wrote to me. This is my last card to play, my final proof that what I’m saying is true. I hold the letter out to her, waiting for her to take it.

“Read this,” I tell her, my voice softer now. “It’s from your father.”

Violet looks up, her tear-filled eyes meeting mine. There’s a flicker of hesitation, but she takes the letter with trembling hands. She unfolds it slowly, her breath catching as she recognizes the handwriting.

Her eyes scan the page, and I see the moment realization hits her. Her expression shifts from confusion to disbelief, and then to a deep, aching sorrow. She clutches the letter to her chest, her sobs quieter now but filled with a profound grief.

“He… he really said this?” she whispers, more to herself than to me.

“Yes,” I say gently. “Your father wanted to make sure you were protected, no matter what happened to him. He trusted me to keep you safe.”

Violet is silent, her eyes fixed on the letter. I can see the conflict in her expression—the struggle between her fierce independence and the undeniable proof in her hands. She doesn’t want to rely on me, but now she knows she has no choice.

“I don’t want this,” she says finally, her voice trembling. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“No,” I reply honestly, “you don’t.”

She nods slowly, her fingers tightening around the letter. “Okay,” she whispers. “I’ll follow your rules.”

Relief washes over me, though I keep my expression neutral. This is just the beginning, but it’s a step in the right direction. I open the car door and step out, walking around to her side to help her out.

As she steps out of the car, I place a steadying hand on her back, guiding her to the house. Her steps are unsteady, but there’s a new resolve in her eyes. She’s still afraid, still grieving, but she’s starting to understand the reality of her situation.

We reach the front door, and she pauses, turning to look at me. “Thank you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nod, my expression serious. “There are a few rules you need to follow, Violet. The first rule: don’t trust a soul. Not even those closest to you. Understand?”

“Even family?”

“Even family.”

She nods, her eyes wide and attentive.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a sleek, black digital watch. I hold it out to her, waiting for her to take it. “This is a GPS tracker. Wear it at all times. There’s a button on the side that will connect directly to my phone. If you’re ever in danger, press it. This is important.”

Violet takes the watch, her fingers brushing against mine briefly. She examines it, apprehension on her face. “Okay,” she says softly, fastening the watch around her wrist.

“Thirdly,” I continue, my tone unwavering, “I’m going to send some guards to the Harrison mansion. They’ll be there to protect you at all times.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off with a slight smile. “Or, you could move in with me,” I add, a hint of teasing in my voice.

Violet looks taken aback, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I think I’ll stay at the mansion,” she says quickly, a faint smile playing on her lips despite the tension.

I chuckle, the sound surprising even to me. “Those guards are there for your safety. Don’t try to dismiss them.”

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