Ruthless Bratva King (New York Russian Mafia Kings #1)

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

VERONICA

Two Months Later…

T he early morning sunlight filters through the skyscrapers, casting long shadows on the bustling city streets. The sleek, glass-paneled building in front of me is my destination and I’m excited.

I’ve been dreaming of this moment—not just this interview, but what it could mean for my future.

One step closer to the life I’ve been trying to piece together. One step closer to stability. Elena has hers. I’d quite like mine.

Shame I had to give Vladimir his black card back in the end but no good thing lasts forever.

I didn’t spend that much mob money. Could have bought my dream bookstore and spent the rest of my days surrounded by books. Hell, maybe I gave the card back too soon. Now I’ve got to get back into the job hunting grind.

At the moment, it’s one dead end after another. Maybe this will be the gig that changes everything and puts my dumpster-fire life into some kind of order.

As I approach the revolving doors, I catch my reflection in the polished glass: tailored blazer, neatly pressed slacks, and hair pulled back into a sleek bun. Professional, composed.

Beneath the polished exterior, my heart races. I never told Elena how bad things had gotten, but I need something to go right.

The guy I was dating turned out to be a real asshole. I’m single, jobless, and if I can’t find something soon, I’ll be homeless too.

The thought of Elena and Dmitri’s upcoming wedding flits through my mind as I step into the cool, air-conditioned lobby.

She deserves her happiness and I can’t wait for the celebration. Their wedding feels like a promise—that some of us can still find happiness amidst all the madness of life.

I can’t spoil her plans by telling her I need help. She’s only just found out she’s pregnant. She doesn’t need my troubles piling up on her.

Still, it’s onwards and upwards. I’ll get this job, get back on track, and forget all about Marco Gorlami, the psycho piece of shit.

The things I had to do to get away from him. I locked down my social media, changed my number, even moved apartment. I was so afraid by the end that I felt nauseated by the sound of his name, let alone the sight of him.

Still, it’s behind me now. I’ll find myself a decent future that doesn’t involve any assholes.