Page 156 of Bratva's Vow
I gripped his hand tighter.
“Your team is working on it. The doctor’s doing tests. We’re going to get you through this. There’s only one way to come out of this, Wren, and that’s okay. Do you hear me?”
“It hurts so bad.”
My eyes burned, and my chest ached from seeing him in so much pain. I fought to swallow down the knot in my throat. “Wren…”
“Hmm?”
I kissed his forehead. “This is the best version of me. When I’m with you. You don’t want me to go back to the way I was before I met you, do you?”
He squeezed my hand. “You’re Maxim Morozov,” he mumbled, lips barely moving. “Bratva Pakhan. You don’t need me. I’m nobody.”
A tear slipped from his closed eyes. His lips moved like he wanted to continue, but no sound came out. Just the soft rasp of breath, labored and thin. A tremor ran through his fingers. I didn’t let go.
His eyelids fluttered once. And again. Then stayed closed.
I sat there, watching the rise and fall of his chest, one hand curled gently over his as if that alone could anchor him to this world.
“You’re wrong, kroshka. I need you more than the air I breathe.” Because breathing was supposed to be normal, but since Wren had collapsed, every breath was a painful drag into my lungs. Like I was inhaling grief.
“I built an empire, buried many enemies, but none of it ever made me feel like a person. Not until you.” My voice cracked, but I didn’t care. Let the whole damn hospital hear how weak I was for him. The one important thing was for him to know I was nothing without him. “You made a man out of a monster.”
I wiped over the back of his hand, over the ridge of his knuckles, memorizing him in case?—
No.
There could be noin case.
“I don’t know how to live without you.” I leaned in andpressed my forehead to his. “So don’t you dare let go. Don’t you fucking dare, or it’ll be two lives lost in this room.”
His hand twitched faintly in mine, and I clung to it like a lifeline. Like if I held on tightly enough, the universe would listen. Would understand this was the one thing I couldn’t lose. That it could take everything and everyone away from me. Except him. Never him.
“You said I’m a Pakhan,” I whispered, my breath mingling with his. “But the only title that matters to me isyours, Wren. Don’t you know that? How can you be a nobody? I’m a weapon onlyyouget to wield. I should be terrified of the day you realize just what you can get me to do for you.”
I wanted to say more. That I loved him. That he was everything I never knew I needed until the moment he stumbled into my life with his disdain for me breaking lines and his low motivation in life.
But the words caught on the lump in my throat.
So I held his hand. Watched him struggle to breathe.
And begged the universe for one more chance to tell him all of it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
MAXIM
Isat in the chair beside Wren’s bed, elbows resting on my knees, hands clasped between them like I was praying. But I wasn’t. I didn’t know how to pray. And if I did, I wouldn’t know what to ask for. Probably for Wren to have never met me. Then he wouldn’t have to go through all this pain.
Did he regret it?
Wren lay still beneath the white sheets, his breaths shallow but steady now, aided by machines that hummed low in the background. His fever had finally broken a few hours ago, but the night had been brutal. He’d woken confused, shaking, drenched in sweat. Mumbled words that didn’t make sense. Thought I was his father. Then begged someone not to leave him.
His fingers had curled around mine with all the strength he had left, and I’d clung to him like it would tether us both to something that felt real.
Now he slept, cheeks sunken and lashes damp against hisskin. The rise and fall of his chest was the only thing keeping me breathing.
The door creaked open. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. Sergei had messaged me that he was on his way.
