Page 29 of Bratva’s Vow (Bratva’s Undoing #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY

WREN

T he rug was wearing thin beneath my footsteps, a quiet confession to how long I’d been pacing. Back and forth, from the bed to the window and back again. Seventeen steps. I’d counted them so many times the motion had become muscle memory. The only thing anchoring me while the rest of me unraveled.

Maxim was home.

I’d watched from behind the curtain as Sergei pulled into the driveway, headlights cutting through the dusk like a blade. Maxim had stepped out, coat slung over one shoulder, head down. No glance up at the house. No glance at me. Just silence and stone, like I wasn’t even here.

Two hours. He’d been home for two hours, and he hadn’t bothered to come upstairs to check on me. I’d expected him to be angry. To be his usual overbearing, opinionated self. This silence from him was scary. I didn’t know what he was thinking.

I checked the clock on the nightstand. 10:08 p.m. The soft glow of the numbers only made the silence feel more profound. More pointed. I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging tight, trying not to spiral, but every minute he stayed away fed the ache in my chest.

I hated that he made me aware of how much I still wanted him—craved his attention—by starving me of his presence.

What was the point of bringing me back if he was going to pretend I didn’t exist? He could’ve left me at the motel. Let me exist in that sad, airless room with scratchy sheets and no entertainment.

At least there, I knew where I stood. Here?

Everything felt warped. Like the house itself was holding its breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When I left last night, I’d been sure I had every right to leave him.

But the walls stared back at me with accusation that I’d been wrong for leaving while he slept innocently next to me.

But how could I not? He was holding me hostage.

I dropped onto the edge of the bed and stared at the door like I could will him through it. Like I could make him remember he was the one who’d chased me down. Because of him, my best friend had betrayed me. And for what? So he could ignore me?

I let out a bitter laugh, scrubbing a hand over my face as my conversation with Jess after Maxim left earlier replayed in my mind.

With all the screaming at Maxim, my throat felt sore, so I walked stiffly into the kitchen to get a bottle of water. I didn’t bother with a glass, just cracked the bottle open and drank straight from it.

Jess entered the kitchen with Nik behind her. Silence echoed in the space between us. I glanced away, unable to face her and what she’d done. We’d been friends for three years. She’d known Maxim for a couple of months and had chosen his side. Jess had always been loyal to me and I to her .

“You shouldn’t be here.” I crushed the now-empty water bottle into my fist.

“I’ll wait outside.” Nik kissed Jess’s temple, whispering something into her ear I didn’t catch.

“Wren, let’s talk. I know you hate me ? —”

“Do you?”

“But I don’t regret what I did.”

“How can you say that? I needed you, and you brought him to me. You are the one person I thought I could trust.”

“Yes, you can trust me to do the right thing by you, even if you’re too angry with everyone to see it. You think I wanted to betray you?”

“At least you’re calling it like it is.” The energy drained out of my body. I pulled out a chair and sat hard. “You knew for a while what he was, didn’t you?”

“He told me after what had happened at TagX.”

“And you just let me fall in love with him?”

“Oh, come off it, Wren.” She grabbed a chair and sat opposite me. “You falling in love with Maxim had nothing to do with me. You love him because of the way he treats you and takes care of you. That man adores you. By the time I found out the truth, it was already too late.”

“So you would have kept it from me?”

“He asked me to give him time to tell you the truth, and I had no reason to believe he wouldn’t. It’s not exactly something he could hide for long.”

“And you didn’t know about my dad?”

“I swear I didn’t. They never told me that.”

“Still doesn’t justify the way you brought him to me after I ran.”

“I was scared, okay? You were on the street with no backup. Do you think you’d be safe for even a day on your own?

” She leaned forward, her hands braced flat on the counter.

“You’re not just dating some rich asshole.

You’re with a Pakhan. A fucking Bratva boss, Wren.

That doesn’t disappear because you slam a door and run scared. ”

I swallowed and dropped my gaze. “But I never asked to be in this. I didn’t know what he was.”

“I know, hon, but you are. Whether you like it or not, you’re in this. And I’d rather have you hate me and be alive than dead in a ditch somewhere with your throat slit.”

My throat burned, and her words caused goose bumps to cover my arms. “Stop trying to scare me.”

“It is scary. I’m not pretending it’s not. But be truthful to yourself, Wren. Isn’t it a little less scary out there when he’s close to you?”

“But it wouldn’t be such a scary place if men like him weren’t in it.”

Even as I said the words, my heart screamed a protest at the thought of a world without Maxim in it. Regret settled in my chest like a heavy stone, and a tear rolled down my cheek.

“You and I know you don’t mean that.” Jess’s voice was raw, the earnest look on her face disturbing in how accurately she could read me.

“Can you honestly tell me that when Maxim showed up today at that motel, a part of you wasn’t happy to see him?

Can you tell me that even as you ran, you didn’t hope he would come after you?

For god’s sake, you left without packing any clothes.

Even if I didn’t tell Maxim where you were, don’t you know the second I left the apartment, he would have had me trailed? ”

I fell silent. Her words held too much truth, which made it hurt all the more. It felt like I’d only run just so Maxim would come after me. Why? To give the pretense I wanted out when I didn’t at all?

The silence stretched between us, broken only by the soft ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall.

“Wren.” Jess took my hand, and I didn’t pull away.

“He loves you. So fucking much. And yeah, he’s dangerous.

Yeah, he’s done things I’m sure would scare us both.

But he’s not going to stop loving you because you’re scared.

You’re going to have to stop hiding behind your anger and the grief over your father. You have to decide.”

I stared at her. Silent. Shaking. I didn’t want to listen to her anymore. Not when she was making too much sense .

She squeezed my hand. “In spite of everything, this is the only thing that matters. I think you know the answer already, and it scares you to face the truth. Do you still love Maxim Morozov, even though he’s a Pakhan? Do you still want to be with him, even though being with him is dangerous?”

I stopped pacing and stared at the bed where Maxim and I’d been making love for weeks.

Never had a man touched me the way Maxim had.

Never had a man made me feel so desired and loved as Maxim had.

Never had a man made me smile as hard as this ruthless Pakhan.

Could a man capable of taking lives really love as hard as Maxim loved me?

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 like the 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.”

He didn’t respond.

He sat there still. Slumped forward in the chair like the weight of it all was pulling him apart from the inside. And his shoulders started to tremble.

It took me a second to realize he was crying.

Not sobbing. Not loudly. Quietly, like he was ashamed of it. Like each tear had to sneak its way out past everything he’d been trained to suppress.

And I… I’d never seen anything so terrifying.

Maxim Morozov didn’t cry .

He ranted, he roared, he ruled.

And now he was sitting here like a shattered man, with vodka on his breath and my betrayal in his chest.

I did this to him.

The fight drained out of me.

I crossed the room, legs weak, heart pounding, and lowered myself slowly into his lap.

Not to seduce. Not to plead. Just to be near him .

I curled my arms around his shoulders and tucked my head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of him—warmth and smoke and something faintly bitter now.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t move.

Then, slowly, one arm came around my back. Then the other. And finally, finally, he buried his face in my shoulder and let himself cling.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into his hair, my fingers trembling as I slid them over the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry, babe. I was scared, and I ran. I thought I was protecting myself, but all I did was hurt you. I didn’t want to. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t cry.”

A shudder went through him, and he crushed me tighter against his chest like he didn’t trust me not to vanish again.

“You said you loved me,” he murmured, voice so low it vibrated against my collarbone.

“And then you left when things got tough. I was worried sick about you, Wren. Didn’t you know the way you left would drive me crazy until I found you?

Don’t you know you’re my everything? That life’s not worth living without you? ”