Page 67 of Pregnant Virgin of the Bratva
I lean against the edge of the desk.
He turns toward me. His jaw is tight. “You want to talk about it now?”
“I want to make sure this never happens again.”
He nods once. “Then we start with the perimeter. Expand the safe zone radius around the estate. Double body rotation. Anyone even thinking about a day off in the next six months can take it up with me.”
“Right.”
“I’m putting new motion sensors in the south garden. Same tech we use at the safe houses—heat-mapped, trip-wired. We’ll test it every morning.”
I raise a brow. “You think someone’s getting in through the hedge maze?”
“I think if someone’s dumb enough to try, they should die in the hedge maze.”
I grin. “Careful, you’ll set off the alarms yourself next time you sneak out to smoke.”
Yuri downs the water in two swallows, then sets the glass aside with a clink and a laugh. “What else?”
“I’m tapping a ghost team to trail her. Fully trained, off-book. No IDs. They won’t make themselves known unless she’s in danger.”
“She’ll hate that.”
“She’ll be alive, though.”
That shuts him up.
I press my fingers to my brow, exhaling slowly. The pressure behind my eyes hasn’t faded since I saw the bruises on her skin.
Yuri crosses the room again and leans against the opposite wall. “You know this is mad, right?”
I look up.
He shrugs. “You. Her. All of this. You never gave a shit about anyone. And now suddenly you’re setting half the city on fire because someone breathed near her.”
“I’m not in the mood for commentary.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
He keeps going anyway. “You used to say love made men soft. Weak. Gave people something to take from them.”
“It does.”
“And yet…”
I level a slow look at him.
He holds up both hands. “Hey. I’m not judging, just surprised. I always figured you’d die alone in that big bed, a knife under your pillow and a body count in your ledger.”
“I didn’t plan for her,” I say.
“Clearly.”
“She’s not just…” I trail off. “She’s not a game. She’s not leverage. She’s not some piece I moved across the board.”
Yuri watches me, curious now. “Then what is she?”
“She’s my wife, which means she’s the most important thing in this damn building.”
