Page 33 of Bratva’s Vow (Bratva’s Undoing #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MAXIM

I kissed the hollow beneath Wren’s ear, soft and slow, letting the reverence I felt bleed into every brush of my lips.

Carefully, I undid the knots binding his wrists.

The silk was damp with sweat, his skin red where he’d pulled against it, desperate for more, even while his body was being used.

I untied each length with the tenderness of a man undoing something sacred.

When his arms were free, I slid my hands beneath him and pulled him gently against my chest.

He came willingly. Instinctively. Like his place had always been there.

We kissed again, this time without hunger. Long. Warm. Unhurried. His lips were soft, pliant under mine, tasting of surrender and salt and everything I’d thought I might lose.

I pulled away, but Wren clung to me, fingers tightening around my wrist. “Where are you going?” he asked, breath brushing my mouth .

I looked down at the cage still locked around his cock. “To take this off you.”

His cheeks flushed. “Can it stay… for a little while longer?” His voice was soft. Shy. But resolute.

I stared at him, stunned. “You… want it to stay?”

He nodded, looking up at me through those dark lashes. “Just for a while. I like how it feels. How it reminds me I’m yours, and I’m not allowed to come until you say so.”

The shock in me melted into something possessive all over again. I slammed my mouth to his and kissed him deeper this time, my hands framing his face like it was the most precious thing I’d ever held.

“What do you want, Wren?” I asked, my voice hushed and hoarse and absolutely serious.

“Anything—I’ll give it. Houses. Planes. Every cent I’ve ever bled for.

It all belongs to you if it means you don’t ever walk out that door again.

Just keep giving yourself to me like this.

Keep being mine, and I swear you can have anything you want. ”

My words were overwhelming. I knew they were. Still, I meant every one of them. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t roll his eyes or tease or deflect.

He simply took my hand and laced our fingers together, anchoring us. “Have you been wearing it all this time?”

I swallowed hard, throat thick. My gaze dropped to the medical bracelet on my wrist, the one he never got to give me properly because I’d been so mad about Bradley. I’d practically accused him of cheating on me that day. Fuck. It was a miracle he’d forgiven me.

“Yeah,” I said. “Haven’t taken it off. I’m sorry I ruined my birthday for you.”

He brushed his thumb over the etched metal like it meant something sacred. “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re wearing it. And to answer your question, I don’t need any of those expensive things. I just need you to promise that you’ll never lie to me again.”

That stopped me. Not because I hadn’t expected it. But because I felt the full weight of what he was asking.

I looked down at our hands, at the way his fingers curled around mine, and then into his eyes.

“I can’t promise I’ll tell you everything,” I said, voice low. Honest. “There are things about the Bratva I don’t want you to ever know. Things that would… change you. Spoil you. I can’t risk that. I love you too much to ever change you.”

“Then…”

“But I can promise this.” I leaned in, pressing our foreheads together. “I will love you.” Kissed his nose. “I will take care of you.” Kissed his cheek. “I’ll protect you until my dying breath.” Kissed his other cheek. “And I will never look at another man again, Wren. Not when I have you.”

He smiled. Soft. Lopsided. That same smile that had undone me the very first time I saw it.

He lifted his pinky.

“Pinky promise?”

I let out a soft laugh—barely a breath—but it broke something in my chest.

I wrapped my pinky around his.

We lay in silence for a while, tangled in each other, sweat drying on our skin, the room warm and safe in the dim lighting.

The steady thud of Wren’s heartbeat pulsed against my chest, and his soft breath ghosted over my collarbone.

He curled against me like he belonged there. Like he was finally done running.

I trailed my hand over the curve of his back, then lower, resting lazily on his hip as he traced idle patterns along my chest.

“Can I ask you something? ”

I turned my head, brushed my lips against his temple. “You can ask me anything.”

“Your family. How did you… end up in the Mafia? Are you okay talking about it?”

I was quiet for a beat. Then I nodded.

“It’s not a secret. My father’s Bratva. Old-school. Still in Russia. He always expected I’d take over the organization someday. I grew up in that world of violence, power, and loyalty. Everything was about the family.”

Wren looked up at me through heavy lashes, listening intently.

“But I liked boys,” I said flatly. “And back there, in our circles, that was a death sentence.”

His fingers stilled on my chest.

“My father caught me. It was… bad. He would’ve killed me if my mother hadn’t intervened. She smuggled me out of the country. Sent me here to stay with Vova.”

Wren’s voice was soft, cautious. “Wow. Really?”

“Yup, Vova helped me out a lot at first. I didn’t know the language, the culture. It took some getting used to.”

“Oh. So Vova’s Bratva too?”

“No, Vova cut ties with the family business when he fled for the same reason I did.”

“Why didn’t you do like Vova and start over? Leave it all behind?”

I let out a low breath, my gaze fixed on the ceiling. His question was valid, but I wished he hadn’t asked it.

“Being a thug was all I ever knew. I was angry. Homeless. Sleeping on Vlad’s couch with nothing but hatred in my chest and too much pride to bag groceries. I wanted to prove my father wrong. Wanted to show him I could be better than he ever was. Without needing him.”

Wren’s fingers moved again, slower now. “Did it work?”

“Yes.” I looked down at him. “I’ve surpassed everything he’s ever accomplished, and not just from being in the mob.

I’m not a good guy, Wren. I did a lot of things I’m not proud of to be where I am.

Vile things. You have to when you’re working your way up in this business to earn respect.

But I earned my place. Made smart moves.

Took risks. Stayed loyal. And I built something without blood ties.

Just with the men who I trust here. It wasn’t easy to do, but I was determined. ”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Just watched me, thoughtful and open and so fucking present like every word I said was important.

“And no one knows what you do?” he asked finally.

“Plenty suspect. Few ask. I don’t brag. The people who need to know, know. The rest?” I shrugged. “I keep clean. Public face, clean books. If something gets messy, I’ve got brigadiers for that. I prefer it that way. Quiet. Effective.”

He smiled faintly. “Let me guess. Money talks?”

I chuckled. “Louder than most men. Once you have enough of it, there’s very little you can’t buy.”

He shifted closer, resting his chin on my chest. “I see.”

Did he?

I brushed his hair back. “That’s why I noticed you that first day in the café. You didn’t care that I was some rich asshole. You stole my coffee and told me off. To think I would have missed you if I hadn’t been impatient for Archie to get out of a meeting and fetch my coffee.”

He grinned. “That’s what gets your motor running, huh?”

“Still jerk off to it.”

He laughed and shook his head, burying his face against the side of my neck. “But you wouldn’t have missed me. I would have been here as an intern anyway. I think fate was determined for us to meet.”

We stayed like that until the air settled again. I ran my hand slowly down his spine, voice low. “You return to class in a couple of days. ”

Wren groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m horrible at my studies. You’ll see me stressed out more often than not.”

“Can I talk you into switching to online classes for now?”

He lifted his head. “Maxim…”

“I’m serious.”

“But I want to go in person. For the experience.”

I exhaled. “Then at least make me a compromise. Nik will be with you. All the time.”

“ Not all the time. He’s not coming into class with me. What are you going to do? Enroll him in my classes?”

I didn’t answer.

His eyes narrowed. “Maxim…”

I stayed silent.

He blinked, then shoved at my chest and pushed me flat onto my back. He climbed over me, straddling my hips, glaring down at me like a pissed-off kitten. “You can’t.”

“Don’t underestimate what I am willing to do to keep you safe,” I said, tone even. “Don’t fight me on this.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Fine.”

I raised a brow. “Are you being sassy? What happened to my good boy from a minute ago?”

He leaned down. “He doesn’t like being good all the time. What are you going to do? Spank me?”

I flipped him in one motion—fast, smooth, practiced—and pinned him beneath me. He squeaked, arms pinned, facedown in the sheets.

“Exactly that. And to think I planned to make you come this time. Now I might keep you in that cock cage for the next twenty-four hours.”

I brought my hand down hard against his ass, watching the flesh tremble and pinken. The sharp gasp he gave fed something dark and possessive inside me.

Fuck.

The call came after midnight. Next to me, Wren stirred, and I grabbed my phone from the bedside table to silence the ringing before it woke him up. I swiped the screen, squinting at the glow in the dark.

Darius.

I slipped out from under Wren with practiced care, tucked the sheet around him, and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. He murmured something, soft and contented, curling toward the pillow. I left the bedroom and crossed to the ensuite with silent steps as the phone rang again in my hand.

I shut the bathroom door behind me.

“What’s up?”

“We got him.” Darius’s voice came through low and steady. “Stone. Nik confirmed the ID himself.”

I stilled, breath catching. The name hit like cold water down my spine.

Stone.