Page 60 of Bratva's Vow
I stared at him, stunned into silence.
Dezi gave a soft scoff, like he couldn’t believe he’d said so much, then pointed to the tray.
“Eat. Or don’t. That’s your choice. But if you don’t, and you pass out or something, it’s my ass on the line. We’re not allowed to make mistakes when it comes to you. You’re the only job he doesn’t give a second chance. If anything happens to you on my watch, I’m as good as dead.”
That made something twist in my gut.
“And knowing that, you still work for him?”
He chuckled. “Yes, because I get it. I’d do the same for someone I love even half as much as he does you.”
For a moment, my anger cracked enough to let in confusion.
Maxim’s men weren’t loyal because they feared him. Not exactly. They were loyal because he gave them something they couldn’t get anywhere else—certainty. Protection.
Security, even if it came wrapped in violence and blood.
They respected him.
But I didn’t want to understand, and I hated that for the first time in days, part of me wasn’t sure what to feel anymore. My father had chosen Maxim over me. And that stung the worst.
“I’m not hungry,” I said again but softer this time.
Dezi didn’t argue. He nodded like he’d expected that.
“All right. I’ll be outside if you need anything.”
The heavy weight of exhaustion must’ve dragged me under at some point because when I stirred, the room was dark, the TV flashing muted infomercials to no one, and something soft brushed against my hair.
Fingers.
Slow. Gentle. Stroking down to my temple, tracing the curve of my cheek like they had every right to touch me.
I froze.
My breath caught sharp in my throat. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who it was. The air shifted when he was near. Always had. Always would.
“Is there really no way you can forgive me?”
His voice was a whisper against the shell of my ear, low and tender. Too tender. The kind of softness you saved for lovers.
“How much longer do I have to wait for you to come around, solnyshko?”
I flinched at the word. Sun. His sun. I’d always found the nickname cute and endearing. Now it sounded like mockery. A sad reminder of how much he’d fooled me.
I jerked upright so fast the blanket tangled around my waist and nearly took me down. I shoved at him, heart hammering as I scrambled back to the headboard.
“Don’t do that,” I said hoarsely. “Don’t touch me when I’m sleeping. It’s creepy.”
Maxim didn’t move away, though. He stayed crouched at the side of the bed, eyes cutting through the dark like twin blades. There was hurt there. God, so much hurt it was almost pitiful. Almost.
“I had to see you,” he said. “You’ve shut me out for days. Wren…” He exhaled roughly, running his hand down his face. “I locked you in because I was afraid. Not of you, butforyou.”
I glared at him, my chest aching like something inside ithad been scraped hollow. Instincts would have me curl up on his lap and seek comfort. But he was the reason for my pain.
“You made it worse, Maxim. You don’t cage people you care about. You don’t lock them away like pets when they don’t obey you.”
“I am protecting you.”
