Page 24 of Taken By The Filthy Bratva

Their past had caught up with them, forcing them to face old enemies, and in the process, they had lost a part of themselves. Yet, amidst the chaos, they had also found something — each other.

As they made their way back to their room, Anton grimaced, sucking in a sharp breath as Bella delicately applied antiseptic to his wounds. The dimly lit room seemed a stark contrast to the chaos they had just left behind. Bella looked down at him, her fingers pausing on a particularly deep gash.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, a note of worry creeping into her voice.

Anton flashed her a pained smile, placing his hand over hers. "I've been through worse, Bella," he said, attempting to dismiss her concern.

A knock on the door broke the silence that had descended between them. Dante stood there when Bella opened the door, his eyes weary from the events of the day.

"Dante," Bella greeted him, her voice breaking slightly with emotion. "Thank you... for everything."

"You're family, Bella," Dante replied, trying to lighten the situation with a small chuckle. "Besides, it's not every day you get to play the hero, right?"

As Dante entered, he walked over to where Anton sat, his gaze hardened. Bella watched them from the doorway, apprehension filling her.

"Anton," Dante started, his voice hesitant. "About Bella and me…"

Anton cut him off, his voice ringing with sincerity. "Dante," he said, catching Dante's gaze, "I was wrong. I should've trusted you. I... I'm sorry for the way I've been acting."

Dante stared at Anton for a long, silent moment before he finally nodded. "I accept your apology, Anton. We're family after all, right?"

Anton returned his nod, a weight visibly lifted off his shoulders. Their bond, strained and tested, had come out strong.

Chapter 13

Anton sat propped up against the headboard, his body aching from the intensity of the night's events. Each breath he took was sharp, slicing through his lungs. Bella, by his side, her fingers tracing soft patterns on the back of his hand, looked up at him.

"Anton," she murmured, her voice wavering, "you need rest."

"No," Anton countered, his hand tightening around the phone, "I need to make sure we're safe. That you're safe." His voice, even though strain, was firm and determined.

She knew there was no arguing with him. This was Anton, stubborn and protective. He would rest easy only when he had secured their safety. Bella simply watched as he dialled a number, every muscle in his body tensing as he waited for the person on the other end to pick up.

"Have they disbanded?" Anton asked, his voice strained. He paused, listening to the voice on the other end. "And the weapons? Good. Keep me updated."

Bella watched as he repeated this routine, checking in with his contacts, ensuring the threat had indeed been neutralized. Despite the turmoil churning inside her, she felt a strange sense of calm wash over her. This was their reality now. Her life had taken a turn she could never have anticipated, and yet, as she watched Anton - his brows furrowed in concentration, the lines of pain etched on his face - she realized she wouldn't have it any other way.

Anton finally put the phone down, exhaustion setting into his bones. He turned to Bella, his gaze softening as he took her in.

"We're safe, Bella," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're safe." Bella nodded with a smile on her face.

The tranquillity of their room was a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded just hours ago. Bella sat by the window, the first rays of the morning sun casting a warm glow on her face. As she looked at the world outside, she couldn't help but reflect on her journey.

"I've been thinking," Bella began, her voice steady. "About us, about everything that has happened."

Anton remained silent, his gaze on her was attentive, encouraging her to continue.

"I... I never thought my life would end up like this, you know?" she chuckled, a bittersweet smile on her face. "But I don't regret it, not one bit."

"Bella..." Anton began, but she held up her hand to stop him.

"No, let me finish, Anton," she said, turning to face him. "I love you, Anton. I've been scared to admit it, scared of what it would mean. But I can't hide it anymore. I love you, and I choose you. I choose this life with you."

The words hung in the air between them, an admission of her acceptance of her place in Anton's world. It was a promise, a commitment to face whatever life threw at them, together.

Anton looked at her, a mixture of emotions playing on his face. Relief, joy, but mostly, love. Pure, undiluted love.

"Bella, I..." he took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I love you too. More than I ever thought possible."

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