Epilogue
NADYA
Pretending to hate my husband in front of the entire world has to be the most difficult thing I’ve done in my life. But there’s another secret I’ve carried, something I’ve been hiding from him for weeks now.
Konstantin gathers me in his arms, lifting me off the cold steel with a gentleness that’s almost heartbreaking.
His grip is tight, desperate, as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.
My leg is throbbing, blood soaking through the torn fabric, but all I can think of is the hollow ache in my chest.
“Nikolai,” I manage, my voice barely there, panic spiking as the pain swells again.
“Arman has him,” Konstantin whispers. His voice is thick and rough, and for once, I don’t have the energy to argue. My body is limp, everything heavy and blurry around the edges as he carries me away from the chaos and ruin.
The world tilts, spinning around the lights and sirens.
I’m vaguely aware of doors slamming, voices shouting, Konstantin shouting back.
He doesn’t let me go, even when someone tries to pull me from his grasp.
His heart pounds beneath my cheek, fast and unsteady, and I focus on the familiar rhythm, letting it anchor me to the present.
There’s a rush of cold air, the stinging scent of antiseptic, and then bright lights overhead. Hands peel me away from Konstantin, voices muffled and urgent. I try to reach for him, but my arms feel like lead.
And then darkness swallows me whole.
I turn my head, blinking against the hospital light. Konstantin is at my side in an instant, taking my hand in both of his. I see the exhaustion written all over his face, but beneath it, there’s something brighter, rawer with relief.
My first thought is for the children. My voice comes out hoarse. “Where’s Mila? Nikolai?”
He squeezes my fingers. “Safe. Mila’s with Pyotr, so is Nikolai—he hasn’t left his side. Everyone’s alright, Nadya. You kept them safe.” There’s a break in his voice as he says it, and the truth settles over me with a kind of aching warmth.
“Arman?”
“Not at the hospital,” Konstantin says. “But he did help save your life.”
I look away. “He saved my life in more ways than I can count, but he also got innocent people killed.”
For a moment, we just look at each other. There’s nothing left to say, not after everything we’ve survived, all the lies we’ve had to tell, even to ourselves. He leans down, and I meet him halfway. Our lips brush, soft at first, then deeper. It’s not about passion or hunger, not this time.
Konstantin brushes his thumb over the back of my hand, searching my face as if he still can’t believe it’s really over. The silence stretches, soft and full of all the things we never got to say in public.
He finally speaks, voice low, almost disbelieving. “When did you figure out Anya’s truth?”
I smile faintly, letting my head rest back against the pillow. “I didn’t, not at first. Not really. It was something Tatiana said at the party, actually. She was the one who planted the doubt.”
Konstantin tilts his head, waiting.
I close my eyes for a moment, remembering the shimmer of the ballroom.
“At first I brushed it off. But then she said, ‘Viktor’s family was a tragedy. When he was twenty-one, they were all killed. No one survived except Viktor himself. If he had a sister, where was she? Why did no one know her? Why didn’t she show up until after the murders?’”
Konstantin’s eyes narrow, nodding as he traces my thought process. I take a slow breath.
“That was when it clicked,” I whisper. “Anya wasn’t just mysterious.
She was an impossibility—a sister invented from thin air after Viktor had no family left to contradict the story.
And that’s when I started to watch her, really watch her.
How she moved, how people deferred to her.
She was never nervous, never out of place.
She was in control. Like someone who wasn’t just playing a part—she was running the show. ”
I look up at Konstantin, letting him see the pride and exhaustion tangled together.
“I called her that night,” I say, my fingers lacing through his.
“From our encrypted phone?” Konstantin asks quietly.
I shake my head, almost smiling. “No. I’m not stupid, Konstantin. I borrowed the phone from my dad. I wasn’t taking any chances.”
He lets out a low, approving sound. “Of course. I started to feel Viktor had bugged not just my apartment, but my phone too. Nothing was safe. That’s the reason I moved out.” His tone grows dark, jaw tightening with the old anger and suspicion. “But that’s not what I meant, Nadya.”
I turn to look at him, his eyes fierce and unguarded for the first time in weeks.
“Anya—Yelena—she was right about one thing,” he says softly. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met.”
There’s a soft knock at the door, then it creaks open. Ivana steps inside, arms wrapped tight around a tiny bundle. Her hair is pinned up hastily, and she looks like she hasn’t slept in days. The baby stirs, making a small, hungry sound.
“Ivana?” I say, pushing up on my elbows, surprised to see her standing in the hospital room. “What are you doing here?”
She gives a tired smile and shrugs. “I heard what happened. I came to see you.” She moves closer, relief and exhaustion fighting for space in her eyes.
Konstantin rises, and Ivana gently passes him the baby. He takes the little one carefully, his whole posture softening as he rocks the bundle.
Ivana looks at me, then at Konstantin. “Did you get the bitch?” Her voice trembles just a little, a lifetime of fear and anger in those words.
I nod, the weight of it settling between us. “She’s dead. So is Viktor.”
Ivana exhales, her whole body seeming to crumble, years of tension unwinding from her shoulders.
“The last time I spoke to Alexei, he was terrified,” she says, her eyes unfocused, lost in the memory.
“He said he’d made a mistake. He told me a man called Grigori was the one who’d approached him first. He told him he could help him win his birthright. ”
“That’s how the Veles corrupt,” I say quietly.
“I’m not making excuses for him,” Ivana says.
“Alexei knew what he was doing. He was threatened by your children’s presence, and the fact that his father would cast him out to vultures.
So, when he was given an opportunity to take back what he thought was his birthright, he did.
But it was all lies. I didn’t even know Grigori had lied about who he was until Konstantin showed me Viktor’s photograph. ”
Konstantin and I exchange a glance.
“Grigori—Viktor—told Alexei he knew where his real father was and that he could help him win his empire,” Ivana continues.
A chill slides down my spine. I see Konstantin’s jaw tighten, the baby fussing quietly in his arms.
Ivana hugs herself. “Alexei was desperate for answers, for power. He never trusted anyone, not really. But when Viktor showed up, with that promise, Alexei couldn’t help himself. He stepped into the fire and couldn’t find his way out.”
She wipes a tear from her cheek, trying to smile for her child. “He paid for it. We all did, in the end.”
Ivana settles in the chair by the bed, the baby bundled in her arms, her gaze distant.
She lets out a slow breath, voice soft and tired.
“Alexei grew more and more paranoid. Every night he’d pace the apartment, checking locks, whispering about people watching him.
Then one morning, he was gone. Left the city.
That was never the plan. We were supposed to leave together—he would never abandon me.
But his phone was switched off, his accounts wiped clean.
He’d dropped off the face of the earth. Viktor played me the same way.
Doctored photographs showing Alexei with Nikolai. For a moment, I almost bought it.”
Konstantin lets out a short, humorless laugh and reaches into his coat, pulling out his phone.
He scrolls, then holds it up so we can see the pictures.
“That was one of the first things that tipped me off,” he says quietly.
“Look, every photo Viktor sent, Alexei is always wearing the same jacket, the same watch, the same scowl.
Different backgrounds, but always the same look.
“Who knew Photoshop would bring down an entire empire,” I murmur quietly.
He turns to Ivana, remorse clear on his face. “I’m sorry about what happened on the bridge. I had to make Viktor believe I was on his side.”
Ivana manages a small, wry smile. “It’s fine. Your man Maksim was waiting for me, just like you said he would. He’s…quite a nice man. Took really good care of me.” She blushes, lowering her eyes. For a moment, I see something lighter in her—a sliver of hope.
Konstantin and I exchange a glance, the shared relief making my chest ache.
I shift, finding Ivana’s gaze again. “What I don’t understand is why and when Kirov switched sides,” I say.
Ivana’s smile fades. “You’re too good to understand it, Nadya. Kirov has always been a snake. Whoever dangled the biggest reward, that’s who he served.”
A wave of guilt presses in. I reach for her hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry, Ivana. I can’t reverse what happened, but I promise I’ll always be there for you, from now on. For both of you.”
Ivana nods, tears brimming but unfallen. The baby stirs in Konstantin’s arms, and Ivana takes the him back and leaves the room.
Without her, the room feels quiet and strangely still, the hospital’s distant noises fading into a hush. Konstantin sits beside me, his hand resting on my blanket, eyes following the closed door as if he’s bracing for another twist.
I turn to him, gathering what little strength I have left. There’s one more thing, one truth I’ve carried alone for too long.
“There’s something else I didn’t tell you,” I say softly.
He looks at me, his jaw tightening, his eyes searching my face for some new shadow or secret. “Nadya?” His voice is careful, almost wary, as if the ground beneath us could give way again.
I reach for his hand, threading my fingers through his, needing to feel his warmth. I take a breath. “I’m pregnant.”
For a heartbeat, he’s silent, and I can see his world shifting behind his eyes. The worry, the exhaustion, all of it mingling with something raw and shining and new.
His hand tightens around mine. A tear slips free, unashamed. “You’re sure?” he asks, voice breaking.
I nod, smiling through tears of my own. “I’m sure.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes wet, voice shaking. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
I search his face, every line carved by worry and love and fear, and I manage a small, exhausted smile. “Because if I had, you would have never let me go off to that ship on my own.”
His breath catches. He shakes his head, but there’s no anger in it, just awe and an aching tenderness. “You’re right,” he says softly, brushing my hair away from my face. “I never would have.”
I squeeze his hand and lean into him, letting myself finally feel safe. “I needed to do it, Kon. For Nikolai. For us. For me.”
He closes his eyes and presses his forehead to mine. “You’re stronger than all of us put together, Nadya. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” I say, tears brimming in my eyes.
I let myself rest in the circle of his arms, the warmth of his breath at my temple, the rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek.
THE END
Dear precious reader, thank you for reading Bratva Bidder & Bratva Bride!
When I finished writing the duet, I couldn’t put down my pen yet… not until I wrote a little something extra special just for you. If you want more of Konstantin & Nadya, click here to get your bonus epilogue.
P.S. If you enjoyed Bratva Bidder & Bratva Bride, then I think you’ll enjoy Sexting the Boss too! Swipe to the next page for a sneak peek…