Page 79 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

I was grateful.

Andrei’s face creased with worry. “Are you okay?”

I drifted back to the presence and nodded. “I just thought of Dad. I mean, isn’t it funny how I was able to meet you because of the shipment he hid?”

“Tell me about it. You think Peter had this all mapped out before he died?” Andrei asked with a playful grin. “That he wanted me to meet you?”

I shrugged. “He was a genius. It’s not completely out of the box. He worked with you, so he must’ve known how great of a person you are.”

Andrei chuckled. “Your father watched me murder men in cold blood a few times. There is no way he would have wanted a man like me for his daughter.”

I looked him straight in the eyes and corrected him. “Every father wants a man who would love and protect their daughter. You’re all of those things, and I’m sure he would have approved.”

Even if Mom hadn’t been a fan of it at first, she’d adjusted pretty well.

Andrei took my hands and kissed the back of my palm. “And I promise to always love and protect you, Giselle.”

My heart thrummed, and a wave of happiness spread in my chest like wildfire. “I love you, too, Andrei.”

He pressed another kiss to the back of my hand before craning his neck to glance at the cake. “Time to blow out your candles, wife,” he murmured, his fingers brushing my jaw.

It didn’t matter how much he called mewife;a giddy sensation filled my stomach like butterflies dancing each time I heard him say it like that.

I turned back to the cake, my heart pounding as I made a silent wish. Then, with a deep breath, I blew out the candle.

The room plunged into darkness for a moment before Andrei flipped the switch. Light flooded the space, and I gasped.

The walls were covered in shelves holding blank canvases, paints, and brushes of every kind. A completely blank easel stood in the center. The room smelled like fresh wood and was a dream come true.

“Andrei,” I whispered, my fingers grazing along the brushes lined up on the table. A surge of overwhelming happiness filled me as I inspected everything, taking in the brushes and the canvas. It was…. I hadn’t expected all of this at all. “Are these—"

“They’re all yours,” he said simply. “This studio will be yours from now on. You love to paint, and now you’ll have a place to do it.”

Tears pricked my eyes, my chest rising with emotion. “You did all this for me?”

His lips curled into a smirk. “I’d do anything for you,solnishko.”

I threw my head back, hoping the happy tears blurring my vision didn’t begin to spill. “I never told you I love to paint. How did you know?”

The corners of his lips quirked. “I saw you in my room that night. I saw how intently you’d been looking at that portrait on my wall, and I knew. Only someone with a knack for artwork would take so much time to admire the detailing. I’d also seen some of your paintings as the vacation house.”

My chest ached with love and affection that I couldn’t contain. I turned to him and threw my arms around his neck.

He caught me easily, his strong arms locking around my waist, and he pulled me against him.

“You like it?” he asked, his voice rough.

“Like? I love it, Andrei,” I murmured, my voice heavy with emotion. “I love you.”

“Fuck,solnishko. I love it when you say you love me like that,” he growled in a deep, husky tone.

I smiled. “Then I’ll say it again, Andrei.” I tightened my arms around him. “I love you, husband.”

Something flickered in his gaze, something dark and desperate. Then, his mouth crashed against mine.

The kiss was ravenous and desperate, his hands possessive as they desperately explored every part of my body.

Andrei didn’t just kiss me; he claimed every fiber of me like he owned it—and he did.

---