Page 183 of Bratva's Vow
I was only too glad to get out of there.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
MAXIM
Ileaned back against the leather seat and stared at the driveway of yet another house.
House number four.
Wren sat beside me, chin resting in his palm, eyes forward but glazed over. Jellybean was curled up in the back seat, tail thumping lazily against the door.
Sergei’s car idled a few lengths back. He was in the driver’s seat, as usual. One hand on the wheel, the other tapping quickly across his phone screen, a furrow between his brows like something had him distracted. He didn’t look up.
“Do you even want a house?” I tried to keep the edge out of my voice. I failed.
Wren blinked slowly, then turned his head toward me like I’d pulled him out of a dream. “What?”
“I’m just saying.” I gestured at the high-gated property in front of us. “We’ve viewed four. Four. In one day. Every one of them looked like they belonged on the front of a real estate magazine. And all I keep hearing isit’s not the one.”
He didn’t respond. Just ran his thumb across his bottom lip like he was checking if his thoughts had words yet.
“I’m not trying to be difficult,” he said softly. “I just… know what I want. I’ll know it when I see it.”
I let out a breath and reached across the console, wrapping my fingers around his. “Wren, kroshka, I don’t mind being patient. But you need to rest too. This is the last one for the day. We’re not pushing past that. Then you can explain to Jess and the other two why they’re stuck listening to us go at it night and day.”
He gave me a sheepish little nod. “Or we could not go at it night and day.”
I gave him a stare that told him how absurd that idea was. Wren chuckled, leaning sideways to kiss me quickly. “Okay, Maxim. Just this last one for the day. By the way, did Sergei give you an answer yet?”
After everything—one brigadier dead, Archie dead, the rot in my organization exposed like raw nerve—I’d been forced to do more than grieve. I had to rebuild. Reclaim. Clean house. Archie hadn’t just betrayed me. He’d embedded men loyal to him in key positions, including the new brigadier he’d hired. He’d prepared for the kind of long game that made his parting words echo louder:You can kill me, but it won’t stop.
I couldn’t afford to ignore that. Not when he’d mentioned Arkady who knew about Wren.
With Vasiliev gone, I’d asked Sergei to step into the vacant brigadier role, to help me steady the ranks and test the loyalty of the three who remained. Darius, who’d proven himself a thousand times over, would be promoted to head of my security. Nik, now reinstated, would serve as his second. And Dezi, reliable and loyal when it came to Wren, was in charge of my husband’s protection.
Sergei hadn’t said yes. He’d told me he needed time tothink. I’d given him forty-eight hours to come to terms with his new role.
Wren watched me, waiting.
I nodded once. “Not yet. But he will.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes,” I said, without hesitation. “Because Sergei doesn’t walk away when it counts. He never has. And because he knows I wouldn’t have asked if I had another choice.”
Wren reached for my hand and squeezed it briefly. We drove to the next listing, following the Realtor across town, a scenic route peppered with leafy trees and quiet sidewalks. Sergei followed us in the black SUV, his presence steady but unobtrusive. Wren drove, humming at the back of his throat in that way of his when he was sleepy and I was playing with his ass.
He was content.
“Do you like this neighborhood?” I asked quietly as he drove up a short driveway that led to the front of a house smaller than the others we’d seen so far.
“It seems so relaxed.” He came to a smooth stop then unlocked his seat belt. A gleam was in his eyes that hadn’t been there when we saw the other houses.
The Realtor waved at us from the porch, all chirpy energy and teeth. I wasn’t in the mood to be charmed, but I gave him a nod and helped Wren out of the car. He moved slower than usual, taking careful steps and a hand on my arm for balance.
Even now, recovering, he still tried to hide the effort it took. But I saw it. I saw everything.
We left Jellybean with Sergei, who remained inside his SUV, engine running, and muttering about not having signed up to be a dog sitter. He appeared to be texting again, his jaw tight, eyes flicking toward us only briefly, then returning to his screen.
