Page 64 of Bratva Baby

We’re both breathless and exhausted, but when I pull her against me, she tucks her head into the crook of my shoulder and sighs contentedly. We stay like that, her wrapped in my arms, as the sea and the sky swirl around us, a cocoon of safety and comfort.

Tomorrow, I’ll go back to hunting. I’ll fight, kill, and threaten—until Cecily is safe. And then, I’ll make sure Evan Thorne gets what’s coming to him. No more hiding, no more tricks, no more bullshit. He’ll pay for what he’s done, and I’ll revel in his screams.

But tonight, in this moment, none of that exists. All that matters is Seraphina and the baby growing inside her.

Tomorrow, we’ll save her sister. But for now, the waves and the darkness protect us.

Epilogue - Seraphina

Applause roars through the ballroom as my name is announced. For a moment, I feel frozen in place, staring at the glittering award in my hands. “Best New Hotel—World Travel Awards,” the announcer says again when he hands me my trophy, as if I didn’t hear it clearly the first time. It feels surreal.

I turn my head toward the audience, and there they are—my entire world sitting in the third row. Grigor’s massive frame is unmistakable as he cheers, clapping harder than anyone else in the room. Beside him, our four-year-old son, Luka, is perched on his father’s lap. He’s clapping too, although his small hands move more out of mimicry than understanding.

Grigor’s eyes lock with mine, and his face lights up with a smile that’s so rare yet so utterly him. Pride radiates from him like heat, and I can’t stop myself from smiling back, tears threatening to spill.

“Thank you,” I say into the microphone, steadying my voice despite the swell of emotions. “This award isn’t just a recognition of hard work but a testament to the people who believed in me. To my incredible staff who pour their hearts into making our guests feel at home, thank you. And to my family—my husband and my son—you’re the reason this dream came true.”

Approval ripples through the room, but my eyes remain fixed on Grigor. His applause slows, but he doesn’t stop. He mouths something I can’t quite hear over the noise. It’s probably something smug like, “I told you so.” And for once, he’d be right.

A few years ago, the idea of opening a hotel felt like a dream too far out of reach. I’d studied business, sure, but my confidence was shaky, especially after years of being caughtbetween family feuds and survival. But Grigor wouldn’t let me give up on the idea. He pushed, nudged, and occasionally downright demanded I follow through. I remember how he stood behind me at every meeting with architects and planners, how he vetted staff alongside me, offering a rare but genuine word of encouragement when I doubted myself.

Now, here I am, holding an award that proves all those sleepless nights and nerve-wracking decisions were worth it. The hotel has flourished beyond my wildest dreams, becoming a beacon of luxury and comfort in a city that, for so long, only represented danger. Guests rave about the personalized touches, the serene design, and the impeccable service. Every detail is a reflection of what I’d hoped to create—a haven in a world that often feels too heavy.

And Grigor? He’d never admit it aloud, but I know he loves how proud I’ve become of it. Every time a review comes in, or a guest leaves glowing feedback, he’s there to remind me, in his own brusque way, that I’m capable of more than I ever gave myself credit for.

The ceremony continues, but my mind stays on the two of them. Luka has somehow wriggled free and is now bouncing on Grigor’s knee, clutching the small toy truck he refused to leave home without. Grigor catches him mid-wiggle and settles him back down, whispering something that earns a giggle. My heart swells at the sight.

By the time the evening wraps up, Luka is fast asleep in Grigor’s arms. His soft snores are audible even over the chatter of lingering guests. We make our way to the car in comfortable silence, and our little boy keeps his tiny head nestled against Grigor’s shoulder.

“He didn’t last long,” I remark as I slip into the passenger seat.

Grigor buckles Luka into his car seat and smirks as he climbs into the driver’s side. “He tried. He kept asking me why so many people were clapping for you. Said he wanted to clap louder.”

I laugh quietly, glancing back at our son. His mop of dark hair is messy, and his face is peaceful in sleep. “He’s like you. Can’t sit still for too long.”

Grigor chuckles. “He’s better looking, though.”

The drive home is quiet, and the rhythm of the car lulls me into a serene calm. The events of the night replay in my mind—the applause, the congratulatory handshakes, the feeling of standing on that stage. It’s hard to reconcile the woman who accepted that award with the one I used to be. The scared, uncertain woman who once believed her life would always be tethered to fear and manipulation.

Grigor parks in front of our house and carries Luka inside while I hold the door open. Once Luka is tucked into bed, Grigor returns to the living room, where I’m sitting on the sofa with my shoes kicked off and my award resting on the coffee table.

He lowers himself beside me and pulls me against his side. His arm wraps around my shoulders and he says, “You were incredible tonight.”

“So were you,” I reply, tilting my head to look up at him. “You were cheering louder than anyone else.”

“I’m proud of you,” he says simply, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I always knew you could do this.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t. Not until you pushed me to believe in myself.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He leans down to press a kiss to my temple. “To remind you how amazing you are.”

I laugh softly and rest my hand on his chest. “You’re a little biased.”

“Maybe.” His lips quirk in a smirk. “But I’m also right.”

We sit in companionable silence for a while as the weight of the evening settles into something warm and comfortable. I take a deep breath, feeling the words I’ve been holding in for weeks bubble to the surface.

“Grigor,” I begin quietly, adjusting to face him. He turns his attention fully to me. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

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