Page 74 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

Makar doesn’t answer immediately. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, his posture relaxed but his gaze serious. “I’ve spent my whole life worrying about threats,” he says finally.“About keeping control, about making sure no one can hurt what’s mine.”

I tilt my head, watching him carefully. “Now?”

He looks at me, his eyes searching mine. “Now, I realize I’ve never had anything worth losing until now.”

The honesty in his voice takes my breath away. For a moment, I don’t know what to say, my throat tightening with emotion.

“Makar,” I whisper, my hand instinctively moving to my belly.

He reaches out, his hand covering mine where it rests. His grip is warm and steady, grounding me in a way I didn’t realize I needed.

“You’re not alone in this,” he says, his voice firm but kind. “Whatever happens, I’ll be here.”

I nod, blinking back the tears that threaten to spill. “I know.”

We sit in silence for a while, the soft creak of the rocking chair the only sound in the room. It’s a rare, peaceful moment—one where the weight of our pasts and the uncertainty of our future feel a little lighter.

As I glance at Makar, his expression softer than I’ve ever seen it, I realize that for all his coldness and control, he’s trying. He’s learning to let me in.

The silence between us stretches, not uncomfortable but weighted with something unspoken. Makar’s hand is still over mine, the warmth of his touch grounding me as we sit together in the nursery. His gaze drifts back to the crib, but his expression isn’t cold or detached as it usually is. There’s something softer there, something more vulnerable.

I take a deep breath, letting the quiet settle into my chest. “You’re thinking about something,” I say, breaking the silence gently.

He doesn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening slightly as though he’s debating whether or not to answer.

“I’m always thinking about something,” he replies finally, his voice low but carrying the weight of honesty.

I tilt my head, studying him. “What is it?”

Makar looks at me then, his blue eyes meeting mine with an intensity that makes my breath hitch. “You,” he says simply. “The baby, how much things have changed since you came into my life.”

His words hang in the air, and my heart pounds in my chest as I wait for him to continue.

“I didn’t want this,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “Any of it. Not at first. I didn’t want a wife. I didn’t want a child. I didn’t want to feel… anything.”

I stay silent, sensing that he needs to get this out.

“But now….” He trails off, his gaze dropping to where our hands are joined. His thumb brushes lightly against my knuckles, and when he looks up again, his eyes are filled with a raw vulnerability that takes my breath away. “Now, I can’t imagine my life without you. Without both of you.”

The confession is like a crack in his armor, and I feel tears well up in my eyes at the sheer sincerity in his voice.

“Makar,” I whisper, my throat tightening with emotion.

“I care about you, Hannah,” he continues, his voice rough but steady. “More than I ever expected. More than I wanted to.”

The words are like a balm to my heart, and before I can stop myself, I lean forward, cupping his face in my hands. “I careabout you too,” I say, my voice trembling. “I love you, Makar. I have for a while now.”

“I think I love you too.”

The faintest smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he leans in, closing the distance between us. The kiss is soft at first, a gentle meeting of lips that feels more meaningful than any kiss we’ve shared before. As the seconds pass, it deepens, his hands moving to my waist as he pulls me closer.

He scoops me up in his thick, muscular arms and I all but melt into him, arousal pooling between my thighs.

I lose myself in him, in the warmth of his touch and the steady strength of his presence. It’s a kiss filled with unspoken promises, a moment that feels like a turning point for both of us.

When we finally pull apart, my head feels light, my balance wobbling slightly as I lean back.

“Hannah,” Makar says sharply, his hands moving to steady me. “Be careful.”

---