Page 18 of Bratva's Vow
“One more question.” Jess’s hand shot up like she was in a classroom. “As long as I am being roped into this, what’s the price for silence on the black market these days? Because there are these new Louboutins I’ve been eyeing…”
I grinned, climbing to my feet. “Done, but so you know, you could have bargained for more. Way much more.”
“Wait, I’ve changed my mind?—”
“Too late, Jess.”
“Fucking hell, babe.” Nik groaned. “It’s not professional to hit up our boss like that. If you wanted Loubotins we’d have pooled our salary together so we could put them on layaway.”
I left them laughing softly in the kitchen, Jess standing between her men like a queen with two fiercely loyal knights. Nik was being modest. With what I paid him and Darius, they could more than afford Louboutins. They might not be Morozov rich but they were Morozov-associate rich. Darius was my third in command after Archie and Sergei. And I’d cut Nik a hefty severance package when I let him go. On top of that, Wren paid him an obscene amount for being his driver and bodyguard.
As much as my brain refused to acknowledge another person sharing Wren, I was happy for them. Jess deserved them and they deserved her—her beauty, her wit, her bravery.
Now to convince Wren he can love a Pakhan.
The door to Wren’s bedroom was ajar, soft moonlight spilling through the blinds and striping the floor like silverbars. I slipped inside without a sound, closing the door gently behind me.
Wren was tangled in the sheets, his face half-buried in the pillow, lips parted in sleep. He looked so young like this. Soft. Untroubled. Like the world hadn’t tried to hurt him yet.
God, I love him.
Quietly, I kicked off my shoes and unbuttoned my shirt, then tossed it over the chair by the window. I crawled into his small bed next to him and barely got the covers over us before Wren shifted in his sleep and rolled right into me. Like a magnet to metal. Like heknew.
He mumbled something I didn’t catch and pressed his face against my chest. One of his hands slid up, fisting the fabric of my undershirt like he needed to make sure I wouldn’t disappear.
I wrapped both arms around him and stroked the back of his head, slow and rhythmic. “I’m here,” I whispered, my lips against his temple. “I’ve got you.”
He settled, his breathing evening out. The weight of his body, the heat of him, the trust in that unguarded movement—it broke something open in my chest.
I didn’t deserve this.
But there was no rule, no oath, no moral line I wouldn’t shatter to hold on to this. I’d soak the world in gasoline, torch every bridge, and smile while everything suffocated on smoke if it meant he was safe in my arms.
I was on the brink of sleep, lulled by the steady rhythm of his breath, when he shifted again. This time with a low, distressed sound. A whimper, barely audible. Then a soft groan. His legs twitched under the blanket. A choked gasp slipped from his lips, his body going rigid for a moment before he started to tremble.
I snapped on the bedside lamp, then reached for him. “Wren?—”
His body jerked, his arms twitching as if he were trying to push something—or someone—away. His fingers dug into my side, hard enough to sting.
“No—don’t—stop, stop—” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep and panic. “Please…”
A tear tracked down the side of his face onto the pillow.
I cupped the back of his head and gently shook him. “Wren. Wake up. It’s just a dream. I’ve got you. Kroshka, I’m right here.”
He thrashed once. Then his eyes snapped open.
For a second, he didn’t recognize me. He shoved at my chest, breath ragged, pupils blown wide. Then something clicked, and he collapsed into me like a dam breaking. He wound his arms around my ribs so tight it almost hurt.
“Maxim,” he whispered. “It was so real.”
“I know.” I kissed his hair, the shell of his ear. “You’re okay now. You’re safe. It was a dream.”
He was trembling against me.
“I thought they were going to kill me. Those men… the ones from your office. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream. It felt like I was back there.”
My chest ached. I kept one hand stroking his spine, the other curled over his head like a shield. “You’re not there. You’re here. With me.”
