Page 72 of Kidnapped Prisoner By the Bratva
Whatever would come next, we’d face it together as a couple. As one.
Epilogue
Wren
Three Years Later
Yep. Our story had a happy ending against all odds. It didn’t look like it at first, but we found a way to make it work between us.
Even after all this time, that spark was still there, and it ignited into flames whenever we were together. Our relationship still burned with the same intensity, just shaped differently now—better.
After the incident with the false accusations and the assassins sent after Val, he decided to leave that life behind for good. According to him, he didn’t just do it himself; he did it for me—to keep away from violence.
Val could’ve chosen to return to that life, to clear his name and regain his power. But he didn’t. Instead, he chose a different career in life. Tech. The man singlehandedly started his company, called Valkon, one of the fastest-rising companies in the tech industry.
Aside from being a former ruthless Mafia boss, Valarian Tarasov was also a businessman, trained to never lack money. He left everything he used to own behind, all of his Bratva-related assets.
We moved from Chicago to a quieter life in a coastal city, away from all the madness of our past. And from scratch, Val built his company, brick by brick. Of course, I assisted, but most of my energy was channeled into my photojournalism career.
My husband supported me, not just with words, but also with his finances. Together, we helped each other grow in our different fields, and life couldn’t have treated us any better.
With each passing day, I wondered how we got here despite everything we’d had to survive. It amused me how easily he blended intomyworld, even after spending more than half of his life in the dark world of the Bratva.
He’d made a name for himself—legally—one that commanded respect and brought him honor. I honestly couldn’t be prouder to be his wife. Val was still in touch with the rest of the Tarasov family, even though he was no longer a part of the family business.
From what I gathered, he was the first to break out and follow his own path. His siblings might not tell him, but I knew some of them envied him and wished they had his kind of courage.
It wasn’t easy, but he paid the price for his freedom, fought his way out of the brotherhood unscathed. I still hadn’t wrapped my head around that. So, if anyone envied him, they must be ready to do what he did—pay the price that he paid.
All that pain and suffering turned out to be worth it in the end. If I could go back in time and do this over again, I wouldn’t change anything—wouldn’t risk ruining my wonderful future.
This morning, I was seated in the living room of our new mansion, built on a cliff overlooking the sea. With my legs resting on the state-of-the-art table before me, I leaned back on the sleek, cream-colored couch, scrolling through my tablet.
I glanced between the video playing on my screen and the shitless man pacing our kitchen with a phone clasped to his ear. He was making one of those business calls that pissed him off.
From the couch, I watched him frown as he warned against incompetence, his voice low and sinister. Whoever was unfortunate enough to be on the other end of that call must be peeing their pants right now.
He was quite bossy, yes. And that’s a good thing. Everyone respected and feared him, and that fear was what keptthem in line. Sometimes, I didn’t agree with his methods, like firing someone over a silly mistake.
I’d spoken to him about that, and thankfully, he always listened to me.
We’d finally understood each other. But that didn’t mean that we no longer argued or disagreed about a thing or two. Our banter was still very much alive, but never cruel, never cold.
Our sarcasm hadn’t dulled, though, only grown more refined with time. He teased me every morning over my terrible taste in tea, and every time, I’d roll my eyes at his inability to relax.
There were the soft things too—the way he always spanked my ass when passing by, and the way I saved him the crusty ends of the bread because he liked them best.
We’d built a lovely home here together, and there was no one else I’d rather have shared my life with.
After he was done threatening the poor soul over the phone, he walked back into the living room, his expression softening by a whisper.
“These guys will be the death of me,” he murmured.
“You should go easy on them,” I said, my lips curling into a smile. “And on yourself, too. Don’t want you breaking down before the little one arrives.”
He sank into the couch beside me, fingers rubbing his tired eyes. And then it hit him. Val turned to face me, a flicker of confusion dancing in his gaze. “Little one?” he asked.
My smile broadened, my palm resting on my lower belly.
