Page 73 of Forced Bratva Hostage

“A surprise?” I arched my brows, eyes narrowing.

“You didn't seriously think I wouldn't get you a birthday present, did you?” he asked and didn't wait for my response. “Come with me.” He held my hand, locking his fingers in mine.

“Okay…” I drawled lazily, unable to hold back the smile on my face.

Afanasy led me through the hallway, my heart racing with anticipation. I couldn't grasp what he had in mind, and the suspense was killing me.

He halted in front of the same guest room that used to be my prison and turned to smile at me. “You ready?”

I drew in a deep breath, nodding in affirmation, eager to know what lay behind an ordinary guest room. He grabbed the door handle and gave it a gentle push. It creaked open, slowly revealing the other side.

My eyes widened the more the door opened, my hand flying to my mouth at this shocking revelation.

A room that was once my prison, a place of confinement, had now transformed into a sanctuary. My gaze wandered, drinking in the sight in front of me. “Afan…oh, my God….” My voice trailed off, overwhelmed by emotions.

Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves crafted from rich dark wood lined the space, meticulously arranged in rows and columns. Soft golden lights enveloped the room, casting warm glows on the plush couches and armchairs.

“Come on,” he said, pulling me by the hand.

We stepped inside, bathing in the glow of the chandelier lights and the serene atmosphere—welcoming and comforting. My eyes studied the opulent setting, my lips curling into an uncontrollable smile. It felt like my heart couldn’t contain all that joy swelling up within me, and a hand rested on my chest.

Afanasy's idea of a gift left me in awe. I took a moment to appreciate this cozy space. My gaze settled on a reading nook with a comfortable oversized chair, a sleek modern table, and a floor lamp with a sculptural design.

My eyes misted as I stood surrounded by my husband's thoughtful touches. It was unbelievable and rendered me speechless.

“You like?” he asked, his voice dripping with emotion as he joined me in looking around. “I had this place set up for you—your own library.” He faced me, his eyes crinkling at the corners as a smile spread across his lips. “I know how much you love reading—how much you loved your former job.”

As he spoke, he drew closer, his gaze never leaving my face, and I stood there, still in shock, wondering how he came up with a brilliant idea.

“I contacted the bookstore you used to work at and asked for the list of all the books they have in their collection,” he said, halting in front of me, his hands gesturing at the shelves around us. “They're all here—every book, every edition…all here.”

My brows arched in surprise. This man would never cease to amaze me. He practically brought the 312 Bookstore to me. How the hell did he pull that off?

“This…is incredible, Afan,” I muttered after finding my voice, my arms wrapped around his neck. “Thank you.” I hugged him tighter. “This is the best gift I've ever been given…ever!”

He quietly pulled out of my embrace with that mischievous grin still playing on his lips. “Hold that thought,” Afan said, pointing at a letter on the nearest table.

Wait, there are more gifts?I wondered, my heart resuming its race in anticipation as I headed toward the table.

Picking up the cream-colored envelope, I read the inscription. “Wren Tarasov Foundation.” My eyes widened, my heart stopping for a minute as I jerked my head toward him, watching him smile at me. “Wh…what's this?” I stuttered, breathing heavily.

“Open it,” he said, leaning against a bookshelf.

With trembling hands, I ripped the seal open and unraveled the letter, my eyes eagerly scanning through the contents.

As I read through, my eyes watered, my heart swelling with a mix of joy and shock. The letter announced the establishment of a new charity organization—the Wren Tarasov Foundation. It was dedicated to providing scholarships, research grants, and educational resources to those willing to learn but who were financially handicapped.

Tears stung my eyes as I read that Afanasy had already committed an initial endowment of $1 million, with the first 30 scholarships going to underprivileged students.

This was more than just a gift; it was a legacy that would bear my name and continue even after I was gone. This was my passion, my dream—helping those who couldn't help themselves—and now, he'd brought it to reality.

“I… I don't know what to say, Afan.” I tossed the letter on the table and rushed back into his arms, holding on tightly. “Thank you so much for being the best partner anyone could ever ask for,” I whispered.

His arms pulled me closer to himself before his hand flew into my hair. “You, Wren Tarasov, deserve everything good this life has to offer.” He lowered his head, tilting it as he tried to catch my eyes. “This is just the beginning, my love. There are many more birthdays to come…many more presents to give you.” He kissed my forehead.

I melted back into his arms, finding comfort in his warm embrace before jerking my head to look at his face. “You know, I don't think that I can ever beat you when it comes to gifting.”

His lips curled into a smile, his fingers combing through my hair. “You already have.” He stared deeply at me. “You've given me the best gift yet…Sasha.”

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