Page 75 of Caught By the Bratva Boss

I was free and safe, but in my head, I was still locked away in that dank basement with a thick metal collar around my throat. It felt like I would never be free, but Danill was right about something else as well. I had to try.

Taking a few steadying breaths that did absolutely nothing to calm me down, I stood and headed towards the dresser. Tonight I would get dressed and go have dinner like a normal person. I would be safe.

It might even be nice. I told myself over and over again. It would be nice to see the people I liked and be like the old me again. Only I could never be the old me. Sitting at the vanity, I began to pull the brush through my wet hair.

No, I could never be the old me ever again. But I could fake it until I realized who I was now.

Chapter Thirty

Daniil

“You have to be patient with her, Daniil,” Anya sighed from the other side of the table.

Grumbling my agreement, I dragged my fingers through my hair, tugging at the strands until I felt the familiar sting in my scalp. I knew I had to be patient, and I was trying, but the longer she was here and hiding herself away in her room, the more it felt like I was losing her, just slow motion this time, and I couldn’t stand it.

“I know, and I’m trying, but I’m worried.” I kept my voice low. “She’s healing. The doctors say she is doing great and the baby is as well.” My voice turned softer. Even I could hear the mixture of emotion in it. “But it’s like she’s dying anyway, like she’s not her anymore.”

“Of course, she’s not her anymore, Daniil.” Anya’s tone was sharp. “She’s been through a great ordeal. Do you not remember what I was like after the accident? And what Lily has been through is so much worse. She may never be the same girl you fell in love with, Daniil.”

I shot her a look, but I didn’t know how she knew I was in love with her:

“I can’t lose her.”

“You won’t.” Reaching across the table, she took my hand and squeezed it, and I took comfort in my sister-in-law’s presence.

“But you have to let her find out for herself who she is now.”

For a second, I closed my eyes. “I know. It’s just—”

“Lily.” Anya cried out excitedly. And I turned around sharply to find her standing in the doorway, dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, with one sleeve rolled up over her cast and a silk scarf around the almost faded bruises and cuts around her throat. Her red hair was damp and pulled back from her makeup-free face.

She looked unbelievably beautiful even without trying. Jumping out of my seat to greet her, I had my hands wrapped around her upper arms, and my lips descended towards hers before I remembered what had happened. I let go of her quickly and stepped away.

As always, she had gone rigid the moment I touched her. Anya’s voice echoed inside my head. I had to be patient with her, and God, I was trying, but it was hard when all I wanted to do every second of the day was hold her in my arms and tell her she was safe. I ached to kiss her.

“Anya.” Ignoring me completely, Lily rushed forward to hug the younger woman, leaving me standing there and staring.

She was ok touching Anya, and she liked Timothy’s company. But mine? Me she couldn’t seem to stand being around at all.

“You look great, Lily.”

Lily blushed. “Thank you, but I don’t—”

I cut her off because I hated that she was about to put herself down. “You’re beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful.”

It was a compliment, but her features tightened anyway.

“Thank you,” she said in a clipped voice before pulling out a seat and turning her attention back to Anya. “So, how have you been? Are you excited for your wedding?”

Lily came alive talking to Anya. Silently, I took my seat so I could watch her face.

It was becoming clearer and clearer that she just didn’t like to be around me anymore, and I knew why. She blamed me for what had happened to her, and who could blame her? I blamed myself as well.

Settling myself and pushing my anger down, I watched as they talked. Every now and then, Lily would glance in my direction and frown. She had heard our conversation. I could see it in her eyes and the way she looked at me like I was her enemy.

I wasn’t. I would give up almost anything to take back the stupid things I had said and done. All she had to do was give me a chance.

When Timothy came home, she lit up, opening her arms so the little boy could climb onto her lap. I listened intently to their conversation, and not once did she mention me or anything about her future.