Page 70 of Bratva's Vow
Wren. Answer your fucking phone. Where are you?
Kroshka, please. Don’t do this. I woke up, and you were gone. Talk to me.
This isn’t funny. Are you safe? You better be fucking safe.
Wren, if you don’t answer me, I swear to god I’ll turn this city upside down to find you.
I know you’re mad. You have every right to be. But please… just tell me you’re okay.
I’ll kill anyone who touches you. If you’re hurt… if you’re in danger, I will burn this city to the ground.
Wren. Baby. Please. Just send a single fucking text. I’m losing my mind here.
I’m sorry. For everything. I don’t care what you think of me right now, but I need to know you’re alive. You can hate me forever, but don’t disappear like this. Please. Come home.
I stared at the screen, numb.
The progression hit hard.
Anger. Panic. Fear. Desperation.
I could practically hear his voice through each one. The tightness. The unraveling. The vulnerability he always tried so fucking hard to hide from everyone but me.
A lump formed painfully in my throat.
I swiped through the others quickly.
Jess
Where the hell are you??
Jess
Wren, seriously. Maxim is losing his shit and so am I. Please answer.
Jess
He’s threatened to sack everybody if they don’t find you.
Nik
Wren. This shit isn’t funny anymore. He’s tearing through people trying to find you. Call someone. Anyone. For fuck’s sake, at least talk to Jess.
Sergei
You’re making this worse, kid. You need to check in. For your own safety. This is not a game.
Darius
Wherever you are, don’t be foolish. You need people around you right now. Whatever happened between you two, don’t shut everyone out. It is not safe out there. We care about you.
I dropped the phone onto the bed and sat beside it, letting my head fall into my hands. The pressure behind my eyes threatened to split my skull. I didn’t know what to feel anymore. Part of me wanted to stay gone. Hide. Pretend none of this had ever happened.
The other part—the part that clenched painfully at seeing Maxim’s frantic, almost pathetic messages—wanted to go back. To wrap myself in his arms again and forget for a little while longer that love wasn’t supposed to hurt like this.
My throat felt tight, like I’d been swallowing nails all morning.
I wiped my face roughly with the edge of the sheet.
