Page 52 of Bratva's Vow
I stiffened, my jaw tightening. I twisted halfway to face him, disbelief scalding its way up my throat.
“Oh, come on,” I snapped. “Because he hit on me? Because he wanted to sleep with me? Or for telling me the truth? For opening my eyes when you wouldn’t? Jesus, Maxim. That doesn’t make him a goddamn monster. He didn’t deserve to die for that.”
Something feral flickered in his eyes. Not anger. Not jealousy. Something uglier.
He clenched his hands into fists, knuckles cracking from the pressure. He curled his lip slightly, and his voice dipped into dangerous territory. Possessive and raw. “But he touched what was mine. He threatened you. He dragged you to that rooftop and laid hands on you. You are mine, Wren.”
My breath caught.
Maxim leaned in, eyes bright and sharp and so terrifyingly sincere that it punched the air right out of me.
“And if that means wiping out every single person who looks at you twice, then so be it.” He uttered the warning like a quiet promise, terrifying in its certainty. “I will do it. I will kill for you without hesitation. I will obliterate anyone who thinks they can take you away from me.”
I stared at him, mouth dry.
“My god,” I whispered hoarsely. “You actually mean everything coming out of your mouth.”
Maxim’s lips twitched. Not into a smile. Nothing that soft. A cold, almost resigned twist of his mouth.
“I do.” He didn’t even blink. Didn’t soften it, didn’t take it back. His voice was hard and absolute. “What’s the fucking point in pretending anymore, Wren? I am the Pakhan. I’ve spent the past weeks restraining myself. Trying to play the civilized version of me for you. But what’s the sense in it now the secret is out?”
He raked his hand through his hair as he leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, the confession ripping out of him like poison.
“Yes, I’m ruthless. Yes, I don’t flinch when men have to die. I don’t hesitate when threats arise. I don’t fucking lose because when I do, people like Bradley put their hands on what’s mine and that will never be acceptable.”
His eyes pinned me there, holding me captive with just a look.
“And you,” he said roughly, lowering his voice like a confession. “You are the most important fucking thing I’ve ever claimed. So yes, Wren, if it comes down to this world or you, then fuck this world and everybody in it.”
Silence expanded between us like a living thing. Thick. Suffocating.
And in that awful stillness, my heart cracked in two.
Tears stung my eyes again, but I refused to let them fall this time. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“I never knew you,” I said softly. The words bled out of me, quiet but edged in devastation. “You’re not the man I fell in love with.”
The weight of that truth shattered something between us. I saw it in his face. In the way his entire body stilled. Like he’d been punched in the stomach.
But he didn’t argue. Didn’t deny it.
“What now?” I asked. “I’m supposed to go to work and pretend everything is all right?”
“You no longer work for Morozov’s,” he said. “You were traumatized by what happened to Bradley and are taking some time off before returning to your studies.”
“Are you taking me back to my apartment?” I asked quietly, though I already knew the answer.
Maxim didn’t reply.
His jaw ticked, eyes on the road ahead like the question didn’t deserve an answer.
The silence felt worse than a slap.
“I said,” I pressed, my voice sharper, cutting through the charged quiet, “are you taking me home?”
Still nothing.
I turned my whole body toward him, my throat tight and burning. “I want to go back to my place, Maxim. Take me home. Now.”
