Page 117 of Bratva's Vow
“I said I should hand in my resignation. Today.” Nik spoke louder than necessary, catching the attention of an elderly woman climbing into her car. She narrowed her eyes at us like we were thugs.
I gave her an apologetic smile, then turned to Nik. “Why would you do that? Don’t you like working for me? I thought the pay was good.”
“The pay’s great. But what’s the point if I’m going to drop dead from stress before I can spend any of it on my woman?” He yanked the door open and held it for me.
“Don’t be so dramatic.” I ducked under his arm.
As we stepped inside, cool air enveloped us. The hospital buzzed with action—phones ringing, intercoms crackling, footsteps shuffling against linoleum. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and something else I couldn’t quite name. Somewhere, a baby cried. Someone was coughing like their lungs were trying to escape.
The chaos hit me, but underneath it was a more personal dread.
The last time I’d been in this hospital, Bradley had taken me to get my shoulder stitched up.
Bradley.
A twist of unease curled in my gut. Even now, with everything I knew, I couldn’t entirely hate him. He’d been kind. Steady. Maybe too interested, but not cruel. Maxim would say that kindness had been a lie, a tactic, but part of me still wondered if his execution had been necessary.
What if I ran into his husband? What would I say to him?
Nik must’ve sensed me stalling. He caught my arm and gently steered me toward the information desk.
“I’m not being dramatic,” he said. “You’re going to be the death of me. You do realize that, right? Maxim gave me one instruction. To take you home, and now here I am, once again, elbow-deep in your moral rebellion. If the stress doesn’t get to me, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he shoots me himself.”
“Nobody’s going to shoot you. We’ll go home after,” I promised. “I just need to know Vlad’s okay.”
We reached the reception desk. A nurse—midtwenties, bleach-blond, and chewing gum like it had personally offended him—glanced up. His name tag read Levi.
I offered him a smile. “Hi. We’re here for someone who was brought in earlier. Vladimir Morozov?” I glanced at Nik with my brows raised. Had I gotten the name correct? Vova was Maxim’s cousin, but that didn’t mean they shared the same surname.
Levi’s gaze dragged over me with half-bored interest. Until he saw Nik. Then his spine straightened.
“Relation to the patient?” he asked.
“He’s my, uh, well, my boyfriend’s cousin. Maxim Morozov? He should’ve arrived just before us.”
Levi tapped at the keyboard with blush-pink manicured nails. His frown deepened as he read whatever was on the screen.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, voice polite but firm. “Mr. Morozov is in a private room. Restricted access. Only two names on the approved list.”
My stomach tightened. “And those names are?”
Nik answered before the nurse could. “Maxim and Sergei.”
I turned on him. “You knew? And you didn’t tell me?”
“Would it have mattered?” He crossed his arms. “Were you planning to listen to anything I said in the car?”
“Don’t be like that.”
I turned back to the nurse, who looked mildly entertained now.
“Are you sure there’s no way for me to see him?”
“Positive.” He popped his gum. “But you’re welcome to wait in the seating area. When Mr. Morozov is done, he can authorize a visitor. If he wants.”
I nodded, trying not to let my disappointment show. “Thanks.”
I caught a handful of Nik’s shirt and tugged him towardthe waiting area. He followed without protest and dropped into a metal chair beside me with a heavy sigh. His elbows landed on his knees, hands clasped tight.
