Page 48 of Bratva’s Vow (Bratva’s Undoing #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

WREN

L ate again.

I burst into the kitchen, nearly colliding with the island stool. Shit, I shouldn’t have moved so quickly. I’d just thrown up my guts and wasn’t completely steady on my feet.

A glance at the wall clock made my stomach drop.

If I didn’t leave now, I’d miss the shuttle from campus to Morozov’s development site.

And there was no way in hell I was going to be the only real estate student who didn’t show up to tour the biggest project in the state.

Not when I lived with the damn man responsible for it.

I checked the pantry and took out two granola bars—the honey and wheat kind that didn’t taste quite as much like sawdust as the others. Sawdust or not, it was just about the only thing I could eat in the mornings without feeling queasy all day.

“Child, that is not breakfast,” Pilar said behind me, arms crossed and gaze sharp.

She stepped into the kitchen like a mother hen, already reaching for a clean napkin and a bottled tea she must’ve prepped for me.

Yesterday, when I came home feverish, she’d stayed with me, feeding me broth and wiping my face and neck with a cool cloth.

Each time I thought I kicked the stomach bug, it returned with a vengeance.

“It’s all I can manage,” I said, half apology, half whine. “If I stop to chew anything more complicated than oats, I’ll throw up or pass out.”

Pilar clicked her tongue. She wrapped the granola bars in the napkin and handed over the glass bottle, condensation already pooling around her fingers. “Your cheeks are too red, and your eyes look glassy. Are you sure you should be going?”

“Can’t miss today. It’s important.”

She sighed, touched the back of her hand to my forehead with the kind of gentleness that made my chest ache. “I heard Mr. Morozov say you should stay home if you weren’t feeling better.”

“He did. But I’m not feeling that bad.”

It was a lie. My skin felt like it was stretched too tight over my bones and my limbs like they were filled with wet sand.

To top it off, more strands of hair were left behind in my brush.

But damned if I was going to stay home and miss today.

The site visit was a part of my capstone project, plus the blood thrummed in my veins at the thought of my secret.

Having everyone gush over Maxim’s work when no one had an idea what he meant to me.

“You say that,” she murmured, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear, “but I know what it looks like when someone is burning up on the inside.”

I curled my fingers tighter around the cold glass. “Thank you for the tea. I’ll drink it on the way.”

She watched me like she didn’t believe a word but nodded anyway .

The air outside hit like a punch, humid and already buzzing with heat that left me dizzy.

I made my way down the front steps, the iced tea clutched against my chest. Nik leaned against the car with his arms folded, sunglasses perched on his head, while talking on the phone.

When he saw me coming, he ended the call and waved.

“Wren, you don’t?—”

“Drive.” I threw my car keys at him, yanking the passenger door open and sliding in before the leather could scald me. “We’ll be late.”

He didn’t move. Just looked at me sideways. “You’re pale. And sweating.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. Jess said you were getting better.”

“Was.” But every time I felt better enough to start eating again, my appetite went all downhill once more.

I opened the tea and took a long sip. It tasted a little earthy, almost bitter, but it was cold and soothing my throat, so I took another drink.

“Maxim’s taking me to the doctor tomorrow. It’s probably just something viral.”

Nik grunted, turning the key in the ignition. “You say that. But you keep looking worse.”

The words clanged around in my head like a warning bell I didn’t want to hear.

I did feel worse.

The headache that had started as a gentle throb earlier now pulsed behind my eyes like a war drum, and the discomfort in my legs tingled.

I’d lied to Maxim when he left for work that I was feeling better than yesterday.

I just needed to get through the day of this tour.

Then I could crumple and tell him I felt like death.

My hands trembled slightly as I screwed the cap back on the tea bottle. I blamed it on nerves. On excitement. On not sleeping enough. But I could feel it—deep down—that my body was unraveling from the inside out.

By the time we got to campus, my thoughts had gone syrupy and slow. I blinked up at the building in front of me, confused for a moment about where we were. My head lolled back against the seat, and my vision tunneled. Sounds around me distorted like I was underwater.

Then Nik was shaking me.

“Wren. Wren —hey.”

I blinked groggily, mouth dry. “Huh? What?”

“You passed out,” he said sharply. “You were asleep, but I had to check you weren’t, like, dead .”

“I was just—” I stopped. Was I asleep? It didn’t feel like sleep. It felt like…like I'd vanished and come back again. “Just resting my eyes.”

Nik gave me a look like he didn’t believe me, but he stepped back as I clambered out of the car on shaky legs.

“I’ll follow the bus.” He didn’t look satisfied at all. “Text me if you feel off. No being a hero.”

I gave a weak nod, then stumbled toward the loading zone where the shuttle was already waiting.

When I approached, Professor Dyer glanced at his watch. “Cutting it close, Mr. Holloway.”

“Sorry, sir,” I muttered.

He squinted at me. “You look pale. Are you sure you’re fit for the trip?”

“I’m good.”

It was the most practiced lie I’d ever told. I could allow myself to be sick later.

I boarded quickly, not waiting for more questions, and slid into a seat between Marcus and Jakoby, who greeted me with wide grins.

“Look who decided to grace us with his presence,” Marcus teased .

“Am I not a part of the class too?” I checked my phone, but I had no message from Maxim.

“Thought you were gonna ditch our shuttle and show up in a carriage made out of pumpkin,” Jakoby said.

“Pumpkin my ass.” I smiled faintly, but the world started spinning again once the bus moved. I tightened my grip on the bottle as I chugged the rest of the tea, hoping it would clear the fog in my brain. It didn’t.

Jakoby and Marcus kept talking, cracking jokes, but I only half heard them. I focused on breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth. One second at a time. The bus ride wasn’t long. I could handle this. It would be worth it.

Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the development site. The bus rolled to a stop in front of a massive fenced-off structure clad in scaffolding and sleek black panels that shimmered under the morning sun.

Everyone murmured their awe as we filed out. I was one of the first to step onto the gravel lot. The building loomed like a modern cathedral, its sharp lines and glass curves cutting into the skyline like it belonged there already.

But I didn’t examine the building too closely.

I scanned the lot, heart thumping.

No Maxim.

Disappointment knifed through my chest before I could stop it.

He’d said he had meetings. That he’d try to come. But some traitorous part of me had hoped he'd already be here, standing tall in a tailored suit, watching for me the way he always did. My legs wobbled, and I shot a hand out on a concrete barrier to keep steady.

I forced my attention to the scene around me.

Foremen in hard hats were assembling near the temporary visitor tent where snacks and bottled water had been laid out. Our professor herded us toward a sign-in sheet manned by a PR rep in branded gear.

“This,” Dyer said, “is the future face of luxury in this state. Take notes. Take pictures. And for once, try not to embarrass me.”

Despite the heat radiating off the pavement and the buzz of conversation around us, I found myself slipping into the rhythm of the day.

The architect spoke with fervor about the innovative glass paneling. The valuation rep broke down the projected ROI and absorption rate like it was gospel. I even managed a few scribbled notes on my tablet, though my handwriting was shaky at best.

At one point, Jakoby slid an arm around my shoulders. “You good?”

“Yeah,” I said automatically, leaning into him without meaning to. His solid warmth helped anchor me. Or maybe I didn’t have the energy to pull away.

A strange prickling sensation crept over my skin. Like I was being watched. I looked up and immediately caught sight of Maxim across the lot. He stood near the site manager, dressed to kill in a slate-gray suit, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes.

But I didn’t need to see them to know he was pissed.

His jaw was clenched, his entire posture taut. And it wasn’t because he could tell at this distance that I wasn’t feeling any better.

It was Jakoby.

Jakoby’s arm was still slung casually around my shoulders.

I stepped away quickly, mouth suddenly dry, trying to pretend it hadn’t happened. I straightened my spine, forced a casual expression onto my face. Maxim stalked toward our group with slow, deliberate steps.

“Everyone, look who decided to pop by,” the site manager said. “This is Maxim Morozov, the man behind the vision. He’s agreed to answer a few questions and give you a quick overview.”

Maxim's voice cut through the hum of student chatter like a blade. Smooth. Measured. “Pleasure to meet you all. I hope you find the project enlightening. Do you have any questions?”

Marcus threw up his hand immediately, the way a child might when he knew he wasn’t supposed to.

Maxim’s gaze slid to him with polite disinterest.

Marcus grinned. “My buddy here worked with Morozov over the summer.” He threw an arm around me. Oh boy. “Do you remember him?”

My heart kicked. Not just from the contact but also from the shift in Maxim. A flicker in the tight line of his mouth. His eyes, even hidden behind sunglasses, seemed to narrow.

He glanced at me, just for a moment, and my knees went weak.

He was looking at me like he didn’t know whether to kill or kiss me.

Professor Dyer cleared his throat sharply. “Mr. Stein, if you have a relevant question, ask it. Otherwise, let’s keep things professional.”

Marcus dropped his hand but chuckled under his breath, not reading the room at all.

Maxim’s gaze lingered on me a beat longer. Then he smiled, cold and perfectly measured, and continued answering the next question. Something about sustainability in luxury developments. He hit every point like a man reading off a script he’d written himself. Calm. Charismatic. Utterly untouchable.

But I felt him watching me, even when he wasn’t looking.

I couldn’t breathe right. My lungs felt like paper. I leaned on the back of Jakoby’s shoulder to steady myself while the group listened. I tried to focus on the words, but they blurred together.

Maxim wrapped up his responses and gestured to a structure on the far end of the site.

“If you’ll follow Hank, he’ll show you the staging area for the second tower. It’s still in the excavation phase, but you’ll be able to see the preliminary planning at work.”

The group stirred into motion, moving to go with Hank.

But Maxim didn’t follow.

He came toward me instead. Past Marcus. Past Jakoby.

And stopped in front of me, his expression unreadable.

Jakoby smiled, sticking out his hand again like he hadn’t already shaken it. “Thanks again for?—”

“I believe we’ve met,” Maxim cut in coolly. Then his eyes slid to me. “Mr. Holloway.”

He took my hand. My left hand, of all things. Brushed his thumb across my ring finger. “That’s a nice engagement ring you’re wearing. Must be one lucky man.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Pain lanced through my gut like a knife. Before I could stop myself, I doubled over with a cry, my hands flying to my stomach.

It felt like my insides were tearing.

The heat, the nausea, the trembling. It all swelled into a hurricane that sucked the air right out of my lungs.

“Wren?” Maxim’s voice cracked like thunder.

I couldn’t answer. My vision swam.

It hurt.

“Maxim—” I reached for him, needing him.

The world dropped away from beneath me, and I felt myself falling. Maxim scooped me up in his strong arms and cradled me against his chest. “Wren, what’s wrong?”

“Hurts so bad.” I cried out, almost blacking out from the pain .

“Move!” Maxim yelled, his control snapping. “Get the fuck out of the way!”

People scattered, startled.

“Sergei! Where the fuck are you?”

Maxim’s towering frame loomed over me as he bellowed into the swirling chaos. The construction site was a hive of panicked activity. I was distantly aware of my classmates backing away.

“Maxim, what’s going on?” Sergei came to a stop next to us, followed by Nik.

“Oh shit. I told him he wasn’t well enough to come,” Nik said.

Struggling to breathe, I grabbed Maxim’s arm. “Make it stop, please.”

“We need to get him to a hospital now!” Maxim’s voice thundered with panic. I wanted to tell him I was fine. That I would be all right, but the words failed to pass my lips. I felt like death was already living inside me.

Professor Dyer stepped in front of us. “Excuse me! You can’t just take him like that. He’s my student.”

Maxim snapped his head toward him like a predator scenting blood.

“Touch him,” he growled, his tone so cold it made the air feel sharp. “And I’ll break every fucking finger on your hand then cut your arm off.”

The professor reeled back.

“I’m not taking him anywhere you wouldn’t take your own family,” Maxim bit out. “He might be your student, but he’s my fiancé. My everything. Just try to stop me.”

Gasps rippled through the group. Even Jakoby stumbled back a step.

Maxim adjusted his grip, holding me tighter against him as my body seized with another wave of pain .

“Y-You lied,” I gasped, half-delirious, the words a whisper of air. “Said it was just a promise ring…”

Maxim’s eyes were wet, furious. “Yes. Yes, I lied. And you’d better get better so I can do it right.”

My vision cracked in two.

But I heard him. I felt him.

His voice, ragged and breaking. “Stay strong for me, kroshka. We’re going to get you help,” Maxim whispered against my temple as he held me close, his scent grounding me for one last second.

Then darkness swallowed me whole.