Page 40 of Bratva's Vow
“We’ll talk later.” Bradley walked briskly toward the elevator,not even sparing me a backward glance for someone who’d been so eager to speak to me.
“Be careful around that one,” Viktor said.
“Who, Bradley?” I gave a shallow laugh. “We’re coworkers. He was nice to me when I just started working here.”
And I’d pulled back from him because I was seeing Maxim. Fuck. Was I the bad guy in this? Despite his flirting, Bradley always treated me with kindness. When Maxim’s men ignored me after I got stabbed, he’d taken me to the hospital.
Viktor grunted. “Where are you off to?”
“I need to go to a jewelry store.”
“Now? In the middle of work?”
“Yes.” I grabbed his arm and steered him toward the exit. “Maxim’s in a meeting, and I need to get back before he’s aware I’m gone.”
“Wait.” Viktor dug his heels in, and man, was he strong. I couldn’t budge him. “So bossman doesn’t know about this little trip?”
“He can’t know. It’s for his birthday.”
“I’m not sure about this.”
I growled. “It’s either you take me or I go on my own. Which is it?”
He shook his head, scowling at me. “Why are you making my job difficult?”
“I don’t mean to, but Maxim’s birthday has to be perfect.”
“All right, but no detours, and if bossman comes for my head, you have to take the blame.”
“Don’t worry. I will.”
Outside, the afternoon was windy, and the sky stitched through with a heavy gray blanket. Viktor was glued to my side as he walked me to a sleek black SUV with smoked windows and a faint shine on the tires like it had been freshly detailed. The second I got in, the doors locked automatically. Viktor got behind the wheel and pulled smoothly into traffic.
I watched the city blur by. Shadows stretched across buildings, and people hurried by in coats, heads bowed. My phone lit up again with a reminder of the pickup time and location, this time through my email. I shuffled between the two front seats to get Viktor’s attention.
“Hey, Vik, you ever buy a birthday gift for someone you love so much you get kind of nauseous about whether it’s good enough?”
“No,” he said flatly.
I chuckled. “Figures.”
“It doesn’t matter what you get Mr. Morozov. He will like it because it’s from you.”
“Maybe.”
Or he would hate it but pretend to like it. I really wanted him to like it.
The jewelry store was tucked in the corner of a quiet upscale plaza, the kind with too many glass walls and not enough foot traffic. It had that moneyed hush, like even the air was expensive. Viktor parked directly out front, engine idling, eyes tracking everything in his mirrors.
“Ten minutes,” he reminded me.
“I know.” I stepped out.
Nik wouldn’t have let me walk in alone, but for that reason, I didn’t mind Viktor tagging along with me everywhere I went. There were always little moments I got to be alone.
Inside the jewelry store was a tranquil little bubble of warmth. Wood-paneled walls, velvet-lined display cases, and soft instrumental music that didn’t quite match the sharpness of the diamonds inside the glass. A well-dressed woman with a neat bun and a warm smile approached the counter as I walked in.
“Mr. Holloway?” she asked.
