Page 62 of Bratva Baby

“Somewhere we can breathe, even for a little while,” I reply.

She doesn’t argue. Maybe she’s too drained to question me. When we round the last bend, the sea comes into view—dark waters stretching to the horizon. I park on a gravel patch and shut off the engine. She inhales and looks out at the waves. I exit the car first, then circle around to open her door.

She steps out, noting the way her gaze lingers on the shimmer reflecting from the moon. The hush of the ocean meets us, broken only by the rhythmic flow of waves rolling ashore. The wind brushes her hair across her face. I gently tuck a loose strand behind her ear, and she grants me a small, unsure smile.

“Why here?” she asks.

“Because we need a moment.” I gesture for her to follow me down a short footpath that leads to the sand. “A moment away from everything else.”

She looks at me curiously. “You’re the last person I expected to seek quiet at a time like this.”

I shrug. “I’ve learned a lot lately—like sometimes, you have to protect more than your territory. You have to protect what keeps you sane, or you lose yourself.”

Her eyes lower, and she nods. We walk across the sand until we’re near the water’s edge. The breeze carries the scent of salt, and the night sky twinkles overhead. I remove my shoes and roll up my pant legs. She hesitates, then does the same, stepping forward so the water laps at her toes.

“This is… nice,” she admits, crossing her arms as if unsure whether to relax.

I step beside her, watching the surf. “I know it can’t fix everything. But you deserve a moment of peace, especially after what you’ve been through.”

“I don’t feel like I deserve anything, not after the mess my father caused—and I helped him, even if I didn’t fully realize it.”

“We established that he lied to you, manipulated you. You were trying to save your sister. Everyone sees that now.”

“That doesn’t bring Cecily back. I’m so worried about her, Grigor. A whole week and no trace.”

I press my hand to her shoulder, urging her to sit on the sand. She lowers herself, hugging her knees. I settle next to her, ignoring the chill that seeps into my legs from the damp ground.

She rests her chin on her arms. “How can you be so calm? You’ve scoured every possible lead. You must be as frustrated as I am. Just for different reasons.”

I stare at the horizon. “I’m not calm, believe me. But I can’t afford to show fear or frustration. My men look to me for confidence. You look to me for hope.”

“Do you really think we’ll find her?”

“I know we will. I have a plan. Thorne thinks he’s hidden well, but we’ve severed his connections one by one. My men are tightening the net around him. It won’t be long.”

She looks at me, searching my face for reassurance. “You promise?”

“I promise,” I insist, letting my hand slip from her shoulder to her back, rubbing gently. “I won’t rest until she’s home. That’s a vow.”

A watery smile quirks her lips. “Thank you. For everything.”

We fall quiet for a while, listening to the waves. Then, I decide to bring up something else that’s been on my mind. I clearmy throat. “Have you thought about what you want to do… after we get Cecily back, after things settle?”

She looks puzzled. “You mean about the baby?” Her hand moves instinctively to her abdomen.

“That too,” I answer, “but I mean your own goals. You told me once you wanted a career, a real job, far from the violence of this life. But we never got around to discussing it.”

She chews on her lower lip before she says, “I used to dream of running my own business. Some kind of boutique or maybe a small consultancy. I studied business in college, after all. I’d like the flexibility, especially with the baby on the way.”

“That’s good. You should do that.”

She arches a brow. “You’d support me? Even though I might be stepping away from your world and focusing on something else?”

“I don’t expect you to be embroiled in Bratva dealings. You’re my wife, but you’re also your own person. If you want to run a business, do it. I’ll do everything in my power to help.”

A spark of hope lights her eyes. “Really?”

“Of course. This life we lead… It’s harsh. You shouldn’t have to be locked in it if you don’t want to. And for our child’s sake, having a more normal environment might be good.”

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