Captured by the Bratva (Sharov Bratva #3)

Chapter Five - Violet

The sky is overcast, a somber gray that matches the mood of the gathering. I stand before my father’s grave, my heart heavy with grief. The scent of freshly turned earth fills the air, mingling with the faint aroma of the flowers laid on the grave. I try to hold back my tears, but they fall freely, mixing with the soft drizzle that has begun to fall.

Uncle Joe stands a few steps away, his voice breaking as he delivers an emotional speech. “Jeff was more than just my brother,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “He was my best friend, my confidant. We grew up together, faced the world together. He was always there for me, and for everyone who needed him. Jeff had a heart of gold, always willing to help, always putting others before himself.”

I clutch my hands together, trying to steady myself. The memories of my father flood my mind—his laughter, his wisdom, his unwavering support. It’s hard to believe he’s gone, taken by a sudden heart attack, a cruel twist of fate that left me reeling. He was overbearing sometimes, but he was still my dad.

Joe continues, his voice filled with sorrow. “Jeff was a dedicated father. He loved Violet more than anything in this world. She was his pride and joy. He worked tirelessly to give her the best life, to protect her and ensure her happiness. Jeff’s legacy will live on through her, through the values and strength he instilled in her.”

I feel a sob rise in my throat, and I press my hand to my mouth, trying to keep it down. The pain is unbearable, a constant ache that feels like it’s tearing me apart. I can hear the sniffles and quiet sobs of the others gathered here, their grief a reflection of my own.

“Jeff was a man of integrity,” Uncle Joe says, looking around at the mourners. “He was a hardworking man. He touched so many lives, and his absence leaves a void that can never be filled. We will miss him every day, but we must carry on, honoring his memory by living our lives with the same kindness and generosity he showed us.”

As Joe’s words echo in the stillness, I feel a fresh wave of grief wash over me. I can’t imagine a world without my father, without his guidance and love. The thought of facing the future without him is terrifying.

Joe takes a deep breath, his voice trembling. “Rest in peace, Jeff. You were the best brother, the best father, the best friend. We love you, and we will never forget you.”

The crowd murmurs their agreement, and I see heads nodding, tears streaming down faces. I look down at the grave, my vision blurred by tears. The weight of my loss feels insurmountable.

As the service comes to an end, people begin to approach me, offering their condolences. I nod and thank them, my responses automatic, my mind elsewhere. My heart feels shattered, and I’m not sure how to piece it back together.

Just as the last of the mourners begin to drift away, I hear the sound of a car pulling up. I look up, blinking through my tears. A sleek black car I don’t recognize comes to a stop a short distance away. The driver steps out, his expression unreadable as he surveys the scene.

The sound of more cars pulling up catches my attention. I watch as several sleek, black vehicles come to a stop near the first one. Men step out, each exuding an air of authority and danger. I don’t recognize any of them, but the man in front immediately draws my attention.

He stands tall, his presence commanding and intimidating. His dirty blond hair is neatly styled, and his green eyes seem to cut through the very air. There’s something about him that makes my heart race with curiosity. Was he a friend of my father’s?

“What the fuck is Kirill doing here?” Caleb mutters under his breath, his voice laced with tension. It seems he knows who this man is, and that alone sets me on edge.

The man, who must be Kirill, stops in front of my father’s grave. He kneels down and gently places a bouquet of flowers on the freshly turned earth. He remains silent for a moment, his head bowed in respect. Despite the intimidating aura, there’s a strange sense of reverence in his actions.

After a short moment of silence, he stands and turns his attention to me. His sharp eyes lock on to mine, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. There’s something almost predatory in his gaze, a dangerous intensity that makes me instinctively step back. For some reason, I feel intimidated by him, almost scared.

Kirill walks towards me with purpose, his eyes never leaving mine. Caleb, sensing my unease, steps in front of me, his stance protective. “Move,” Kirill says, his voice a low, commanding growl.

For a moment, I’m frozen, but then I find my voice. “Caleb, it’s okay,” I say, my voice trembling slightly. I motion for him to stand aside.

Caleb hesitates, his eyes darting between Kirill and me, but he finally steps back, still close enough to intervene if necessary.

Kirill stops a few feet away from me, his gaze unwavering. “Violet Harrison,” he says, his voice smooth yet carrying an edge. “I’m Kirill Sharov.”

I swallow hard, my throat dry. “Were you a friend of my father’s?”

His lips twitch into a semblance of a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Something like that.”

Kirill’s gaze remains steady, and for a moment, we stand there in silence, the weight of his presence pressing down on me. Finally, he speaks, his tone straightforward and devoid of emotion. “My condolences for your loss, Miss Harrison. Your father was a respected man.”

“Thank you,” I manage to reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

Before I can respond, he turns and walks away, his men following closely behind. The sense of foreboding that had settled over me intensifies. I watch as they get into their cars, the sleek black vehicles blending into the gray afternoon.

Caleb steps closer to me, his face etched with worry. “Are you okay?”

I nod numbly, still trying to process everything. “Who is he, Caleb?”

Caleb sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kirill Sharov is a… powerful man.”

I glance back at the now-empty space where Kirill stood. “What kind of man is he?”

Caleb looks at me, his expression serious. “A dangerous one.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The day has been overwhelming, and the future seems uncertain. One thing is clear: my life is now entwined with Kirill Sharov’s, and I have no choice but to trust him.

Caleb stands close by, a protective presence, but I can sense his unease. I glance around and notice that Uncle Joe is speaking with some of the other mourners, unaware of the tension.

Uncle Joe makes his way back to me, his expression a mixture of grief and concern. “Violet, who was that man?”

“I… I’m not sure,” I reply, feeling the weight of my own confusion. “Caleb?”

Caleb steps forward, his face a mask of professionalism. “Nobody you need to worry about.”

Uncle Joe looks at me, clearly unsatisfied with the vague answer, but he doesn’t press further. The atmosphere is uneasy now, a contrast to the solemn but peaceful tone of the funeral before Kirill’s arrival.

As we move back toward the group, I feel the eyes of the mourners on me, their curiosity barely concealed. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I need to do next. It’s time for me to speak about my father.

I step up to the microphone, my hands trembling slightly. I take a moment to compose myself, looking out at the gathered faces, many of whom I’ve known my entire life.

“Thank you all for being here today,” I begin, my voice wavering. “My father, Jeff Harrison, was a complicated man. He drove me mad at times, and we were often at odds. He had a way of pushing my buttons like no one else could.”

A soft murmur of agreement ripples through the crowd, and I can see some small smiles of understanding. “Despite all of that,” I continue, “I loved him dearly. He was my father, and he always wanted the best for me. He worked hard to provide for us, to make sure we had everything we needed. And he taught me so much about resilience, about never giving up, no matter how tough things got.”

I pause, taking a shaky breath as I feel the tears start to well up. “I’ll miss him every single day. I’ll miss his stubbornness, his guidance, his love. He wasn’t perfect, but he was mine. Now, he’s gone, and I’m left with a void that I don’t know how to fill.”

The tears spill over, and I can no longer hold back the sobs. Uncle Joe steps up beside me, gently guiding me away from the microphone. He speaks softly, his words meant to comfort. “It’s okay, Violet. You did well.”

I let him lead me back to my seat, my body shaking with grief. The reality of my father’s death is overwhelming, and I feel lost, adrift in a sea of emotions.

Caleb, who would usually be the first to offer reassurance, stands a few feet away, his expression distant. He’s oddly quiet, and I can’t shake the feeling that it has something to do with Kirill’s presence.

The rest of the funeral passes in a blur. I hear snippets of conversations, see flashes of familiar faces, but it all feels surreal. I lean on Uncle Joe for support, his steady presence a lifeline in my turbulent emotions. When the service finally ends, the mourners begin to disperse, offering their condolences one last time.

Caleb stays back, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if expecting trouble. I approach him, needing answers. “Caleb, what’s going on? Why are you so tense?”

He looks at me, his eyes filled with an unspoken burden. “Violet, I wish I could tell you more, but I know as much as you do. Just trust that your father had his reasons for everything.”

Frustration bubbles up inside me, but I nod, knowing that pressing him further won’t get me anywhere. “Okay,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Promise me you’ll stay close. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Of course.”

I sigh and turn away, watching as the mourners begin to filter out, offering their final condolences before making their way to their cars. The weight of their sympathetic glances and whispered words presses heavily on me, but I manage to nod and thank each one, my responses automatic.

Uncle Joe and Caleb are the last to leave, lingering nearby as if unsure whether they should go. Uncle Joe looks at me, his eyes filled with concern. “Violet, are you sure you want to be alone right now?”

I nod, forcing a small smile. “Yes, Uncle Joe. I just need a moment by myself.”

He hesitates, clearly torn, but eventually nods. “Alright, sweetheart. We’ll be just over there by the car if you need anything.”

Caleb gives me a lingering look, his expression a mix of worry and reluctance. “I’ll stay within sight, okay? If you need me, just call out.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, grateful for their understanding.

Uncle Joe and Caleb walk to the car, leaving me alone by the graveside. Caleb stands by the car, his eyes never leaving me, a silent sentinel ensuring my safety. I turn back to my father’s grave, the loneliness of the moment settling over me like a heavy blanket.

The cemetery is quiet now, the earlier murmur of voices replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant call of birds. I kneel down, running my fingers over the cold, freshly turned earth. The reality of my father’s death hits me with full force, and I feel the tears welling up again.

“Dad,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “I don’t know how to do this without you. You were always there, even when we fought, even when things were tough. You always knew what to say, what to do.”

I brush a tear from my cheek, the grief overwhelming. “I’m so sorry for all the times I didn’t listen, for all the times I let my stubbornness get in the way. I hope you knew how much I loved you, how much you meant to me.”

The tears flow freely now, and I make no attempt to stop them. “I’ll miss you every day. Your laughter, your advice, even your lectures. I don’t know what to do without you.”

I place a hand on the gravestone, my fingers tracing the engraved letters of his name. “I promise I’ll try to be strong, to carry on the way you would have wanted. It’s so hard, Dad. It’s so damn hard.”

I let out a sob, my shoulders shaking with the intensity of my grief. The world feels emptier, lonelier without him. I don’t know how to move forward, how to find a new normal in a life that’s been irrevocably changed.

Behind me, I can sense Caleb watching, his presence a silent comfort. He’s keeping his distance, respecting my need for solitude, but I know he’s there if I need him. That thought brings a small measure of solace, a reminder that I’m not entirely alone in this.

“Goodbye, Dad,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I love you.”

I stay there for a while longer, letting the tears come, allowing myself to feel the full weight of my loss. The pain is raw and deep, but I know that somehow, I’ll have to find a way to live with it. To honor my father’s memory by living the kind of life he would have wanted for me.

When I finally stand, my legs are shaky, and my heart feels heavy. I take one last look at the grave, then turn and make my way back to the car. Caleb straightens up as I approach, his eyes filled with understanding and concern.

“Are you ready?” he asks softly.

I nod, even as I feel tears prickle my eyes all over again. “Yeah, let’s go home.”