Page 47 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

Vera squeezes my hand lightly, then pulls back, giving me a sympathetic smile. “Maybe one day, we can make them together.”

Her words catch me off guard, and I glance up at her, surprised by the kindness in her offer. “I’d like that,” I admit, the words barely above a whisper.

The sound of approaching footsteps breaks the moment. I stiffen automatically, the warmth of the kitchen replaced by a chill as Makar steps into the room.

His gaze sweeps over me, sharp and assessing. He’s still in his suit from earlier, the dark fabric immaculate despite the long day.

“Adjusting?” he asks, his tone laced with a smirk.

I bristle, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m surviving,” I reply flatly.

His smirk deepens, and his eyes linger on me for a moment longer than necessary. There’s something in his gaze—an attention that unsettles me, makes me feel both exposed and curious all at once.

“Good,” he says finally, his tone dismissive. “I’m glad to see you making friends.”

I glare at him, but he doesn’t give me the satisfaction of reacting. He turns to Vera, nodding in acknowledgment. “I’ll need dinner prepared in the study this evening.”

“Of course, Mr. Sharov,” Vera replies smoothly.

Makar’s attention shifts back to me briefly, his expression unreadable. “Try not to make trouble,” he says, his voice low and almost amused. Then, just as quickly as he entered, he’s gone, his presence leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

I exhale slowly, tension bleeding out of my shoulders.

“He’s not so bad,” Vera says lightly, her tone teasing.

I snort softly, shaking my head. “He’s the worst.”

She chuckles, gathering the tea cups from the table. “You’d be surprised how much people can change, Hannah. Even him.”

I don’t answer, but her words linger as I stare out the window, my thoughts drifting between the past and an uncertain future.

I glance toward the doorway where Makar disappeared moments ago, my chest tightening with conflicting emotions. Can someone like him really change? Could the ruthless man who holds my freedom hostage—the man who controls my every move—be capable of something softer?

I want to scoff at the thought, to push it away as ridiculous, but the memory of his touch last night, the fire in his gaze, stops me. There was something else there, wasn’t there? Something more.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Vera says gently, breaking through my spiraling thoughts.

I blink, startled, and look at her.

She smiles knowingly. “Take things one day at a time. You don’t have to figure it all out now.”

I nod faintly, though the uncertainty still gnaws at me.

As Vera places a reassuring hand on my shoulder before turning back to her work, I let out a slow breath. One day at a time. It’s all I can manage for now.

Chapter Sixteen - Makar

The drive home feels longer than usual, the rhythmic hum of the engine doing little to quiet my thoughts. Work had been the usual chaos—negotiations, threats, deals to finalize—but through it all, my mind kept circling back to her.

Hannah.

This marriage was never meant to mean anything. It was a necessity, a solution to a problem I didn’t ask for but refused to ignore. Yet, every day since we exchanged vows, I’ve felt… different.

I think of her too often, more than I care to admit. Her sharp tongue, the fire in her eyes, the way she softens when she thinks no one’s watching. She’s stubborn, infuriating, and utterly captivating.

I want to see her face the moment I walk through the door. I want her in my bed every night, tangled in my sheets, her body pressed against mine.

The thought irritates me, makes me grip the steering wheel tighter. She’s not supposed to affect me like this.

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