Page 59 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

He was rich, so financial security wasn’t going to be a problem. He was protective and would tear the world apart to make sure I was safe. And he loved kids, so that was a plus.

Mom watched me with a genuine smile this time. “Do you love him?”

My heart skipped a beat, and my smile vanished. My chest fluttered, my entire body reacting to that question. “Love?”

I hadn’t given that a thought yet. I couldn’t answer that question.

To me, Andrei was my protector. He was someone who I smiled thinking of, someone I loved kissing and making love to. I’d never seen him unhappy, but I knew I would move mountains to not see him sad.

Simply put, he was everything to me. If that wasn’t love, then I had no idea what it was.

I breathed, “I don’t know, Mom. I think I like him.”

“Liking him is not enough, Giselle. You need to know for sure if you love this person,” she said softly. “Does he make you happy? Do you want to make him happy? Those are the questions you should ask yourself. See if you can envision yourself spending the rest of your life with this someone. Then you’ll have your answer.”

The answers to the questions were a solid yes. I didn’t need to think twice, but a part of me also didn’t want to accept that I was slowly falling in love with Andrei.

How did it even happen? When did he gain so much control over my heart? It felt like it was just yesterday that I met him in the cemetery, and now I’d already fallen for him.

“Is that your father’s vacation house?” Mom asked, her voice pulling me back to the present.

“It is. I needed some time alone, so I came over.” I grabbed Dad’s coat and raised it. “Mom, see?”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s your dad’s favorite winter jacket.”

“It is.” I placed the jacket on my leg and grinned. “It still smells like him. His boots are right where he used to keep them, and he still had a pack of cigarettes in the pocket waiting for winter.”

Mom laughed. It was hearty, filled with fond memories, and it was sweet to hear her laugh again. “You know, I always found it really weird how your father only smoked during winter. I found it even more weird that he always had a fresh pack of cigarettes sitting in his pocket.”

“Me, too.”

Mom and I spent the next thirty minutes talking about Dad. We spoke about his weird but funny habits and our fondest memories of him.

Somehow, Mom didn’t cry speaking of him, and I didn’t feel too sad either. The memories of his lifeless body lying on that table with a bullet in his head had blurred as we spoke of the life he lived.

Dad wasn’t just a memory in our minds.

He was the love we carried in our hearts; he was everything to us, and his existence was more real than real could get. That was how I wanted to remember him from now on because, with Andrei’s help, I was going to make sure his legacy would live on.

By the time we hung up, I had grown hungry and sleepy again. I pocketed my phone and rummaged through it for lunch ideas, eventually deciding on grilled wings with veggies.

Yawning, I sat up and ran my fingers through my tousled hair. My gaze flickered to the painting hanging above me.

I scoffed.

Shit, I’d almost forgotten the reason I came to this room to begin with, and I could have asked Mom. There was a chance she could know a thing or two about the message.

On the other hand, that could also put her in danger, and I wasn’t going to risk it.

Sighing, I narrowed my eyes on the painting, trying to think of any hidden clues that whoever created it could’ve been trying to pass, but none came to mind.

Pulling out my phone from my pocket, I scrolled to the last message I received from Dad and read it for the hundredth time.Thetyphoon’s eye holds the calm—Tyfun-1.

I replayed the words on a loop inside my head, hoping I would discover something, anything to give me a hint on where Dad could’ve hidden it, but still, I came up with nothing.

Lowering myself on the bed, I turned to my side, and suddenly, an idea came to my mind.

The lake house.

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