Page 58 of Kidnapped Prisoner By the Bratva
“I…I didn’t know you cook,” I said, watching him strap on some kitchen gloves.
“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he replied and walked over to the oven, opened it, and withdrew the freshly baked bread.
“I can see that.”
Its sweet aroma filled the air, teasing my senses and raising my brows.
I picked up a fork, dug it into the plate, and tasted the eggs. My eyes closed for a moment as I chewed gently, savoring the deliciousness that exploded on my tongue. “Hmm.” It honestly tasted way better than I imagined.
“And…?”
I glanced at him, fed myself some more, and gave him a thumbs-up. “Good. Very good.”
His response was a faint grin and the look of satisfaction on his face.
“You know, I’m not sure what’s more shocking: you cooking or you dressed like that.” I gestured at his outfit on the last statement.
He glanced at his clothes. “What’s wrong with these?”
“Nothing,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I’m just not used to seeing you in anything other than black.”
He chuckled, scratching his forehead. “Yeah, well, get used to it.”
I didn’t reply, but the smile on my face did.
Maybe I liked it here. Maybe I liked this—whateverthiswas. And perhaps I was delusional, but I could swear that he seemed lighter this morning. And if I didn’t know better, I’d even say he was…happy. He wasn’t all jumpy and smiley. But he wasn’t all grumpy either.
Something was different about this man; it was a good difference.
We stared into each other’s eyes, and the longer the silence stretched, the more peaceful I felt. No spiking pulse, no racing heart, no anxiety. Nothing. Just peace.
I broke eye contact after a while, and that was when my gaze fell on a familiar object sitting on the table in the living room. My breath hitched, eyes widening in shock. “Wait a minute, is that…?” I rushed over to the table where my camera sat untouched.
My heart was filled with gladness as I reached out and picked it up, observing it from every angle. It was still in good shape.
“I was going to give it back later,” he said from behind me. “But I guess now is fine.”
I felt my tear glands charging up at his words. That was thoughtful of him, and I was grateful. This camera was like an extension of me, and I’d been away from it long enough.
“Figured you’d need it to pass the time.”
I turned around, meeting his gaze with a soft expression etched on my face. “Thank you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded once and then returned to fixing our breakfast. I headed back to the kitchen, lifted the camera to my face, squinted an eye, and took a shot of him being domestic.
Val paused and raised his head, shock flickering in his gaze. “Wh—what’re you doing?” he stuttered.
“I’m taking a picture; it’ll last longer.” I laughed lightly, gesturing toward him. “Hey, raise your chin a little higher.”
His brows yanked up in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.” He flashed a playful scowl.
“Say cheese!” The camera clicked, capturing the moment. “Perfect.” My lips curled into a self-satisfied grin.
He pointed a spatula at me. “Delete those photos.”
I let out the laugh bubbling in my throat. “I will do no such thing.”
He lowered his head, hiding the smile on his lips as I continued taking as many photos as I could. The air was filled with pure bliss and the sound of our laughs—a rare moment that was worth capturing.
