Page 149 of Bratva's Vow
Nik gave me a look like he didn’t believe me, but he stepped back as I clambered out of the car on shaky legs.
“I’ll follow the bus.” He didn’t look satisfied at all. “Text me if you feel off. No being a hero.”
I gave a weak nod, then stumbled toward the loading zone where the shuttle was already waiting.
When I approached, Professor Dyer glanced at his watch. “Cutting it close, Mr. Holloway.”
“Sorry, sir,” I muttered.
He squinted at me. “You look pale. Are you sure you’re fit for the trip?”
“I’m good.”
It was the most practiced lie I’d ever told. I could allow myself to be sick later.
I boarded quickly, not waiting for more questions, and slid into a seat between Marcus and Jakoby, who greeted me with wide grins.
“Look who decided to grace us with his presence,” Marcus teased.
“Am I not a part of the class too?” I checked my phone, but I had no message from Maxim.
“Thought you were gonna ditch our shuttle and show up in a carriage made out of pumpkin,” Jakoby said.
“Pumpkin my ass.” I smiled faintly, but the world started spinning again once the bus moved. I tightened my grip on the bottle as I chugged the rest of the tea, hoping it would clear the fog in my brain. It didn’t.
Jakoby and Marcus kept talking, cracking jokes, but I only half heard them. I focused on breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth. One second at a time. The bus ride wasn’t long. I could handle this. It would be worth it.
Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the development site. The bus rolled to a stop in front of a massive fenced-off structure clad in scaffolding and sleek black panels that shimmered under the morning sun.
Everyone murmured their awe as we filed out. I was one of the first to step onto the gravel lot. The building loomed like a modern cathedral, its sharp lines and glass curves cutting into the skyline like it belonged there already.
But I didn’t examine the building too closely.
I scanned the lot, heart thumping.
No Maxim.
Disappointment knifed through my chest before I could stop it.
He’d said he had meetings. That he’dtryto come. But some traitorous part of me had hoped he'd already be here, standing tall in a tailored suit, watching for me the way he always did. My legs wobbled, and I shot a hand out on a concrete barrier to keep steady.
I forced my attention to the scene around me.
Foremen in hard hats were assembling near the temporary visitor tent where snacks and bottled water had been laid out.Our professor herded us toward a sign-in sheet manned by a PR rep in branded gear.
“This,” Dyer said, “is the future face of luxury in this state. Take notes. Take pictures. And for once, try not to embarrass me.”
Despite the heat radiating off the pavement and the buzz of conversation around us, I found myself slipping into the rhythm of the day.
The architect spoke with fervor about the innovative glass paneling. The valuation rep broke down the projected ROI and absorption rate like it was gospel. I even managed a few scribbled notes on my tablet, though my handwriting was shaky at best.
At one point, Jakoby slid an arm around my shoulders. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I said automatically, leaning into him without meaning to. His solid warmth helped anchor me. Or maybe I didn’t have the energy to pull away.
A strange prickling sensation crept over my skin. Like I was being watched. I looked up and immediately caught sight of Maxim across the lot. He stood near the site manager, dressed to kill in a slate-gray suit, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes.
But I didn’t need to see them to know he was pissed.
