Page 54 of Bratva’s Vow (Bratva’s Undoing #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

MAXIM

W ren finally went quiet around two in the morning.

He’d been murmuring for over an hour, broken sentences slurred with sleep and delirium. Whispering to someone who wasn’t me. Someone who wasn’t here. Sometimes I caught fragments.

“Don’t go yet…”

“I’m trying, Dad. I’m trying…”

It gutted me.

I kept my hand in his the whole time, tracing the rise of his knuckles, murmuring gentle reassurances he couldn’t hear. Promising him things I had no power to guarantee.

Then, just like that, he stilled. No more words. No more pleading.

Only the soft rasp of his breathing and the rhythmic hum of the machines keeping watch over him.

I should have tried to sleep. Instead, I sat there, elbows on knees, head bowed.

My eyes drifted to his left hand. The ring was back on his finger—our little hospital wedding had seen to that.

He’d cried several times during it, called Jess a slut for outdressing him, and vomited immediately after the “you may kiss the groom.”

It was ridiculous. Beautiful. Ours.

The chaplain had refused at first, of course.

I couldn’t blame him. Wren had been clammy and half-conscious, his voice trembling with tears and delirium.

I’d asked. Then I’d offered money. When that hadn’t worked, I’d promised to personally ruin the rest of his life if he refused to grant Wren’s request.

I was pretty sure I’d broken some kind of law to get married in an ICU. If challenged, our marriage probably wouldn’t hold up anywhere but my own heart. But it didn’t matter.

I was married.

To Wren.

Would he regret it when he was out of the hospital?

My phone buzzed in my pocket, dragging me out of my thoughts. I checked the screen. Sergei.

Carefully, I untangled my hand from Wren’s and slipped into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door with a soft click behind me. I answered on the second ring.

“What is it?”

“We got movement,” Sergei said without preamble. His voice was low, taut. “Archie just showed up at the doctor’s house.”

My pulse stuttered. “Leo?”

“Yeah. He just left. We’re not sure why.”

My blood turned cold. Why the fuck would Archie go there unless he was working with Leo? Leo, whose husband I’d pushed to commit suicide. Leo, who might hold a grudge that Wren and I were involved in his husband’s death. Leo, who now cared for Wren .

“Fuck, Sergei. Leo is working with him. Why did I trust the fucking asshole?”

Why did I keep making mistakes that could cost Wren his life? Was Archie right after all, and love was making me too sloppy?

“We’ll keep an eye on what happens tonight,” Sergei said. “Darius is tailing Archie. He’ll make sure he doesn’t disappear. One wrong move and we’ll take him to the spa.”

I turned to the sink, bracing myself against it with one hand, gripping the phone with the other. The porcelain felt cold beneath my palm.

“They’re working together,” I said quietly. “I’m going to gut the doctor. He’ll be happy to be with his husband again.”

“Let’s see what happens tonight. I’ve got eyes everywhere, Maxim. Trust me on this. I won’t leave any room for error.”

Trust me on this.

I’d have sworn I could trust Archie too, but now this clusterfuck. How could I trust anyone ever again?

“You’ve got to trust me, Maxim. Just because Archie betrayed you doesn’t mean you should stop trusting the rest of us.”

I clamped my eyes shut and drew in a shaky breath. I felt wrecked. Hollowed out.

“Keep me updated. I want to know the second anything changes.”

“You’ll be the first,” Sergei said.

I hung up. Despite the puking, his mobility issues, and the fevers, Wren had been improving. This had to mean the doctor hadn’t tampered with his treatment, right? We had to shut Archie down before he succeeded in killing Wren.

Through the door came the steady beep-beep-beep of the monitors. A comfort. A threat. A promise.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I would take Wren away. Bring him to another hospital out of state. No one needed to know where he was. Then I went back to sit beside my husband.

To plan.

The first instinct was to call Archie. He was the one who always executed my plans. Only this time, he was the plan. Archie was no longer an ally but a threat I had to eliminate. But first, Wren needed to be evacuated to another hospital.

I pulled out my phone again and started searching: ICU air ambulance , international medical transport , private medevac , how fast can I fly a critical patient out of state without raising red flags ?

An hour passed in a blur of options, quotes, regulations, and loopholes I planned to blow through if needed. My fingers paused over the screen when another text from Sergei buzzed in.

Sergei:

Update. Doctor left his house half an hour after Archie. Took a suitcase. Checked into a hotel.

My brows pulled together. A suitcase? A hotel? What the fuck were they up to?

About fifteen minutes passed before another update hit.

Sergei:

The doc is on the move. Seems to be heading to the hospital. Darius still has eyes on Archie. He’s back home.

I frowned. Earlier, when Leo made his final rounds, he’d told us he would be off duty for forty-eight hours. He’d given us the name of the doctor who would handle Wren’s case. Why was he heading back to the hospital after Archie’s visit?

Sergei:

I was right. He just pulled into the hospital parking lot. I’ll cover from behind.

I looked at Wren, still sleeping, his skin too pale against the sterile white sheets. The nurse’s shift change had come and gone. The new nurse had casually said Dr. Lopez would be covering tonight.

So why was Leo here?

My pulse surged. I stood up too fast, heart thudding against my ribs like a warning bell. My eyes went to the go-bag Sergei had packed, half-crammed under the visitor’s chair. I crouched, dug into the bottom until my fingers found the cold steel.

The gun felt heavier tonight.

I loaded it with quiet, deliberate hands. No shaking. No second-guessing.

Leo was coming to finish the job. How the fuck did he plan to do that with me there?

I tucked the weapon into the back of my waistband and positioned myself beside the window. From here, I could see the door, the bed, and every inch of floor between them.

I didn’t have to wait long.

The door cracked open a few inches. Silent. No knock. Just a sliver of light. Then Leo slipped in.

No white coat. No clipboard. Just him.

Moving too quietly for a man with nothing to hide.

I stepped forward, pulling the weapon from my back.

“Don’t move.”

He froze midstep. His gaze found mine, then dropped to the barrel of the gun pointed straight at his chest.

“Mr. Morozov,” he said, voice carefully calm, “why are you holding a gun at me?”

I cocked the gun. “What the fuck are you doing here? Talk fast and speak low. You wake him up, you’ll have a devil of a time putting the pieces of your brain back together.”

Sergei slipped into the room behind the doctor and slowly closed the door. He crossed his arms, his jaw set. The doctor glanced from my bodyguard to me.

“You had me followed?” he asked.

“I had someone followed, and they went straight to you.”

The doctor’s face paled, and he shook his head. “You got it wrong. I swear.”

“What’s your relationship to Archibald Mayfair?”

Leo stood frozen inside the room, palms up like he’d walked into a hostage situation instead of a hospital room. His face was pale, mouth working soundlessly. Then he found his voice.

“It’s not what it looks like.” The words tumbled out in a panicked rush. “Please. I would never hurt Wren. I didn’t become a doctor to hurt anyone.”

I didn’t say a word but stared at him, the Glock aimed at his head.

“I became a doctor to help people,” he went on, voice cracking. “To heal. Not to be used. Not to be manipulated.”

And then—to my surprise—his body … withered. The tension bled out of his shoulders, and tears tracked silently down his face.

“This is not what I signed up for, but it’s like everyone wants to manipulate me. My patients, the board, the administration… Even my own husband.”

He choked on that last word.

I didn’t care about his grief. Not when Wren was lying behind me, fighting for his life because of what this man might have done.

“Answer the question. How do you know Archie?”

“I only knew him through Bradley,” he whispered. “We never really spoke. Not until two days ago. ”

I didn’t blink.

“I was working the floor when I was told someone had made an urgent request to see me. I assumed it was for a patient. But it was Archie. He was waiting for me in one of the side rooms.”

His gaze flicked toward me, then dropped again.

“He told me I should misdiagnose Wren. Delay treatment. Make sure he didn’t get better.”

I moved before I even felt my body react. Two days ago. That was the day Archie had tried to see Wren. So that was where the thirty minutes went that it took him to get to Wren’s room.

Shoving my gun back into my waistband, I collared the doctor, driving him back into the wall. He didn’t put up any resistance. I slipped a hand around his throat, pinning him there.

“You fucking bastard.”

“I didn’t do it!” he cried, eyes wide with fear. “I swear, I didn’t. I told you I won’t hurt anyone! What kind of doctor would I be if I broke my oath?”

“Then why did you meet with him again? Tonight?” I snarled. “Why are you even here, Leo? You said you were off duty.”

“I didn’t agree to anything.” He pulled at my hand. “He just showed up at my house. I didn’t invite him. I didn’t know he was coming.”

I pressed him harder against the wall. His feet scuffed against the floor.

“What did he want?”

“He told me the truth,” Leo said, voice smaller now, trembling. “About Bradley. About how he really died.”

I didn’t loosen my grip, but I stilled.

“Did you really force him to jump?” he asked.

I looked him straight in the eyes .

“Yes, and I hope he broke every single fucking bone in his body.”