Page 82 of Bratva Stalker Kidnaps His Bride
Her fingers tighten around mine. “Oh, Mom and Dad are here.”
I nod once.
Together we walk across the warm sand while Soren proudly carries three shells and one suspiciously shaped stone he insists belongs in the collection despite overwhelming evidence pointing to the contrary.
Samira reaches us first, none of the hesitation observable from before as she gathers Zara into a careful embrace, holding her daughter with unmistakable tenderness.
“You look happy,” she whispers.
Zara smiles.
“I am.”
Arman nods at me, and I nod back. Respect offered without pretending the past never existed.
“You have kept your promise, I see,” he says aimlessly. I’m surprised he remembers my random mention of wanting to take my family to the sea for some time, but I shouldn’t be.
“I intend to continue.”
“I believe that.”
Coming from him, the words carry weight. Trust was never rebuilt through speeches, after all.
Soren wanders directly toward Arman with fearless confidence, holding up his newest discovery.
“Grandpa, this one looks like a dragon.”
Arman accepts the shell with solemn concentration, turning it slowly between his fingers.
“I believe,” he says after appropriate consideration, “that dragons would agree, my son.”
The delighted grin that answers him transforms the entire beach. Samira laughs softly while Zara watches them, sunlight catching in her eyes until they seem brighter than the water stretching endlessly behind them.
She reaches for my hand again.
This time, I tighten my fingers around hers first. She glances sideways.
“What?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
She studies me with familiar skepticism.
“What are you thinking?”
“Usual stuff.”
“That is rarely comforting.”
A faint smile finds its way across my face.
“I was thinking,” I admit, watching our son explain dragon taxonomy to Arman with complete confidence, “that I spent years believing protection meant building stronger walls.”
“And now?”
I look at the family standing together beneath the widening sky.
Now I understand.
