Page 95 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva
He loves me? The shock of his confession propels me forward and releases adrenaline into my blood long after I’ve left his presence. Maxim doesn’t say a word as he leads me down to the garage. I follow, my body numb, my mind looping one sentence over and over.
I love you. And I love our baby. And no matter how far you go, I will always find you.
It circles in my chest like a dying echo, each repetition hitting a different nerve. The car door opens. I slide in. Still, no words.
The drive to my apartment is quiet. The city lights blur past the window—just like they did that night. Only this time, I’m not being taken. I’m being returned.
Like an object.
Like something borrowed, broken, and sent back.
We pull up outside my old building. I barely recognize it, but it recognizes me. Maxim shifts the car into park. “I’ll walk you up,” he says, voice clipped.
I don’t argue. I’m too tired to. Too hollow.
We cross the short walkway, and I crouch by the mat out of habit, fingertips lifting the corner. The key’s still there. Exactly where Noelle and I always kept it. My throat tightens.
This was our safety. Our routine. Our normal.
It still exists. And I can’t believe Kaz let me walk back to it. Without a fight. I straighten up and fit the key into the lock, but Maxim stops me with a hand on my shoulder.
“Wait out here.”
He moves past me and disappears inside.
I don’t say anything. I just stand on the porch, breathing in the stale air of memory, trying to feel something like relief. All I feel is the emptiness Kaz left behind.
After a few minutes, Maxim returns, gives me a small nod. “You’re clear. You can go in.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, barely looking at him.
He lingers for a second, then steps back.
“Goodbye, Violet.”
I glance at him. His face is unreadable, but there’s something almost…sad in his eyes. He offers a faint smile, turns, and walks back to the car. The engine starts. He drives off without looking back. And just like that, I’m alone.
Back in the life I had before Kaz.
Only now I’m not the same girl I was.
And I don’t know if this life still knows what to do with me.
I step into the apartment, and the silence is jarring. Noelle isn’t home.
“Noelle?” I call out, locking the door behind me.
No answer. I walk down the hallway, my fingers trailing along the familiar walls, still covered in the little Polaroids we used to take of each other. A part of me aches. I didn’t realize how much I missed this until now.
When I reach Noelle’s door, I try to push it open—but it doesn’t budge.
It’s locked.
I frown. Noelle never locks her door.
A strange, sudden unease prickles across my skin. I try the knob again. Still locked. I don’t have my phone, so I can’t call. I’ll have to get a new one tomorrow.
I head to the kitchen. My throat’s dry and my chest is still heavy from everything that’s happened, from everything Kaz said. I open the fridge and lean in for the water jug, eyes scanning the half-empty shelves.
