Page 69 of Forced Bratva Hostage

Epilogue – Wren

Familiar faces stared at me with smiles playing on their lips, their eyes shining with excitement as friends and family surrounded me. The air was thick with bliss and anticipation as they watched me stand in front of my double-layered cake.

Afanasy leaned forward and whispered in my ear, his voice calm and gentle, “Make a wish, honey.”

Everyone else in the room must be wondering why there was the sudden hesitation to blow out the lone candle in my cake; their stares said it all.

But I wasn’t hesitant—no. I was simply overwhelmed with gratitude, and in that moment of silence, or “hesitation,” I was reflecting on how much my life had changed in the last two years.

There were multiple reasons to be thankful, and as I stood there, surrounded by the few people who loved, cared for, and adored me, a wave of gratitude washed over my face.

It felt like a dream, one I wouldn't want to ever wake up from, but fortunately, this was my reality. I was blessed with the perfect husband—ruthless and cruel when working, soft and gentle when home with me and our daughter.

I was given one more chance to feel my father's love, the same love I'd been deprived of for over two decades. These past two years, Dad had upped his game at winning me back, and although it was hard at first, eventually, I was about to let go of the past.

Then, there was sweet little Sasha, the biggest blessing yet.

She would turn two years old later in the year, and the girl was the most amazing thing in life right now. Every now and then, I would tease her father that she meant more to me than heever would, and he'd, more often than not, reply with something even more sassy.

One time, his response was, “And what in the world makes you think that I wouldn't throw you out the window in a heartbeat if it meant saving our daughter?”

Our banter was always so hilarious to watch or listen to because neither of us would want the other to win. I often tried my best to keep up with him, but in the end, my husband's silver tongue—a sharp one, at that—was his edge over me.

Most times, the maids, Mary and Martha, would giggle and laugh whenever they witnessed us being silly and childish.

This was one of the reasons I fell deeper in love with my husband every day. His easygoing nature, wits, and good sense of humor always cracked me up every time.

With Afanasy, there was never a dull moment. The man was the life of the party, and somehow, I was starting to see some of his traits in me.

Nowadays, I could seamlessly make a joke out of any situation, all thanks to him. He'd affected me positively—helped me out of my shell and guided me through the process of parenting even though he, too, was as clueless as I was.

He believed I had changed him, but he often failed to see that he'd changed me, too. He thought that I was perfect when he met me, at least perfect for him. But I wasn't the woman he married—the quiet, reserved, innocent, and naive woman. I was something much more, a better version of myself.

I loved how we both were determined to make this work—how we taught each other the way we wanted to be loved. Afanasy was a master wordsmith, a man who could convey the most complex ideas with clarity and precision. However, he didn't teach me with his words; he taught me with his actions, and maybe that was the reason I picked up faster.

The man was decades older than I was—he'd turn 41 in a few months while, today, I turned 24. I still couldn't believe it had been two years since we met under the most twisted circumstances.

I never would've thought that this was how I would find love, considering what I'd been through, yet here I was, swimming in a pool of love and affection.

Julia had been right, after all.

To this day, her words of affirmation still echoed in my head: “…sometimes, we find love even in the most unlikely of situations….”

I’d found it hard to believe her at first, especially after I misread the thing with Veronica, but looking back now, her words were very accurate.

My heart was filled with gratitude for this unexpected outcome, and I wouldn't change a thing, even if I had the chance. This turn of events made me understand that every cloud had a silver lining. There was light at the end of every tunnel. One just had to be patient.

I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes, savoring this wonderful moment before bending over to blow out the candle.

A round of applause erupted from the small crowd surrounding me, their cheers filling the air. “Happy Birthday, Wren!” friends and family chorused, their voices dripping with excitement.

Underneath the birthday banner across the ceiling, I beamed, my eyes crinkling at the corners.

Julia blew me a kiss as she stood beside her husband, Roman, who was cradling a glass of champagne. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a crisp white top, while he was clad in his signature black outfit.

To their right-hand side, Alexei stood, a faint smile playing on his lips, his piercing blue eyes fixed on me.

Yakov, my husband's most trusted man, stood at the far back, toward the entrance, his watchful eyes roaming the space with a subtle grin on his face.

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