Page 84 of Bratva's Vow
Jess was right. I already knew the answers to the questions she’d asked, even if I hadn’t said them. After she left, I’d rolled the question over and over in my mind. Every single time, my heart said yes. Because she was right.
I felt more at ease as Maxim’s captive than being free out in the world without him.
How fucked up was that?
Oh, fuck this.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I swallowed my pride and hurried from the bedroom. If Maxim didn’t come to me, I would go to him.
My bare feet padded against the cool marble floor as I navigated the shadowy hallway. My heart pounded so violently it seemed to echo off the walls. If only I knew what I was going to say when I saw him. All I knew was that I couldn’t stand another second hidden away in that room, lost and alone, when we could work things out together.
I found him in his study, sitting at his desk, the dim light from the single lamp on the mahogany desk casting shadows on his face. He had his head bowed, shoulders hunched likethe weight of his world had finally settled on his back and refused to budge. A glass, half-full, sat forgotten beside the bottle. Vodka, of course. No ice. Nothing to soften the bite.
His eyes were on the glass, but I doubted he even saw it.
“Why didn’t you come to bed?” I cringed at the sound of my voice, whiny, needy.
Maxim raised his head and stared at me with an intensity that made my legs weak. He stared at me with eyes that weren’t cold, but neither were they warm. They were scrutinizing, carefully assessing.
“Maxim.” It wasn’t like him to ignore me. What if I’d pushed him away?
“I didn’t know you’d need my services tonight.” His words were followed by a humorless laugh. “Just so you know, I won’t fall for the same trick twice.”
My cheeks burned, and I clenched and unclenched my hands. “I did not trick you.”
“Didn’t you, Wren?” He picked up the glass and downed it in one gulp.
“I left because I didn’t have any option. You had me watched twenty-four seven. Wouldn’t allow me to leave the house. I didn’t have room to breathe, to think. I needed that space after everything that’s happened. Do you think I wanted to leave?”
He poured himself another drink. “Yet you did and broke my fucking heart.”
He didn’t shout. He didn’t slam his glass, didn’t throw accusations like weapons.
He just said it.
Quiet.
Matter-of-fact.
And that wrecked me more than any anger ever could. Because this was supposed to be me mad at him. Not the other way around.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. What could I say?
The room seemed to sway gently around me, the air too thick, my lungs too tight. My throat closed up, and my chest physically hurt. There was no armor left between us. Just flesh and wound, and the space where we used to fit together so perfectly.
“I didn’t mean to,” I finally whispered.
His eyes flicked up to mine. And god, I wished they hadn’t.
Because what stared back wasn’t fury.
It was utter devastation.
“You used your body to distract me,” he said, and his voice cracked halfway through, like the words had been dragged up from something deep and ugly inside him. “You used something I loved… against me. And then you left me like I meant nothing to you.”
The silence that followed was unbearable. Like we were standing at the edge of something sacred, and if I wasn’t careful, I would involuntarily throw a match to it and let it burn.
“I didn’t. Maxim, I didn’t mean to use you. I swear to god, that night… it wasn’t about manipulation. It only crossed my mind to run after waking up in the middle of the night and seeing you asleep next… t-t-to me.”
