Page 81 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

“I’m here,” I say softly, setting Anatoly down in the bassinet beside the bed before moving to help her sit up. “How do you feel?”

“Sore,” she admits, wincing slightly as she adjusts her position.

I grab the water bottle from the tray table, unscrewing the cap and holding it to her lips. “Drink,” I say gently.

She takes a few sips, her eyes meeting mine as she sets the bottle down. “Thank you,” she whispers.

I nod, sitting back as I retrieve Anatoly from the bassinet. “There’s someone who wants to see you.”

Her face lights up as I place him in her arms, her hands trembling slightly as she holds him close. “Hi, baby,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

Anatoly stirs, his tiny face scrunching as he lets out a soft coo. Hannah laughs, tears slipping down her cheeks as she presses a kiss to his forehead.

“He’s perfect,” she says, looking up at me with a smile that makes my chest tighten.

“He is,” I agree, sitting down beside her.

For a while, we sit in silence, simply marveling at the life we’ve created. But eventually, the weight of the moment shifts, and I see a flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

“What is it?” I ask, my voice steady.

Hannah glances down at Anatoly, her fingers brushing lightly over his cheek. “I’ve been thinking,” she begins, her tone cautious. “About what happens next.”

I nod slowly, waiting for her to continue.

“I’d like to stay home with him for the first year,” she says, her voice gaining strength. “To be here for him, to bond with him.”

“Of course,” I say immediately, my tone leaving no room for doubt. “You don’t need to ask.”

She smiles faintly, but I can see there’s more on her mind.

“After that?” she asks hesitantly, her gaze shifting to meet mine. “Would I… would I be able to have more freedom?”

“Freedom?” I repeat, frowning slightly.

“I don’t mean anything drastic,” she says quickly, her cheeks flushing. “Just the ability to go out, to see the world a little. Maybe even finish school someday.”

I lean back, considering her words. Freedom has never been a concept I’ve been comfortable with—not for myself, not for anyone under my protection. As I look at her, holding our son with such tenderness, I realize this isn’t about control. It’s about trust.

“You can do whatever you want,” I say finally, my voice firm. “Whatever makes you happy.”

Her eyes widen slightly, as though she hadn’t expected such an easy answer. “Really?”

“Yes,” I say, leaning forward to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You’ve given me more than I ever thought I could have, Hannah. I want you to have what you need too.”

Tears well in her eyes again, and she leans against me, her head resting on my shoulder as Anatoly sleeps peacefully in her arms.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m building something real. Something worth protecting. And as I hold both of them close, I know I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it.

***

Two days later, the car rolls up to the mansion’s grand entrance, its imposing façade softened in the early evening light. It feels different returning now, like the house itself has shifted to make room for the new life we’re bringing inside.

I step out first, moving to open the door for Hannah. She smiles at me, tired but radiant in a way that takes my breath away. In her arms, bundled snugly in a soft blue blanket, is Anatoly.

“Home,” she murmurs, looking up at the mansion.

---