Page 9 of Bratva’s Vow (Bratva’s Undoing #2)

CHAPTER SEVEN

WREN

I unzipped the side of my suitcase and tossed in a bundle of socks, then tilted my head.

There it was again.

A soft moan, followed by the unmistakable rhythm of a headboard tapping the wall.

I groaned, but a laugh escaped anyway. “Jesus, Jess.”

From the sounds of it, she was having a good time. I didn’t need to peek into her room to know Nik was in there with her. He hadn’t let her out of his sight since we got back to the apartment, and now it sounded like he was off the clock. Loudly so.

Shaking my head, I smiled. Jess was happy.

She deserved to be. And as weird as it was to be packing while my best friend was getting railed in the next room, the noise was kind of…

reassuring. Someone else was in the apartment with me.

Something I’d never worried about before, but Maxim’s paranoia was affecting me .

I turned back to the dresser and opened the drawer that held the dress shirts Maxim had bought me.

How many should I take? Technically, I only needed a few.

What was I going to do with them all when I returned to college?

But I didn’t want to have to keep returning for clothes.

Maxim was already on edge about me leaving the house without him.

Who would have known how possessive he was? For the most part, I loved the attention, but sometimes it scared me.

My phone rang on the nightstand.

I dropped the tie I was rolling up in the suitcase and peeked at my phone.

Maxim.

Seriously? We only arrived at the apartment fifteen minutes ago.

“Hey—”

“Why didn’t you take your new phone with you? I gave you one simple instruction, Wren.” His voice was sharper than he’d ever spoken to me.

I stopped short of responding that he wasn’t my dad and to lay off being so dictatorial. Just because I was sucking his dick didn’t mean he got to control my every movement. But the feisty words wouldn’t come out. For one, I wouldn’t be surprised if he walked into my bedroom. I glared at the door.

“Relax, Maxim. I brought it with me. It’s in my bag.”

“But it’s not on, Wren. What’s the point of having it with you if it’s not on?”

“My old phone works fine. Didn’t you get through to me on it? Maxim, I told you I didn’t need the other phone when you bought it for me.”

“Turn it on, Wren,” he growled. “Do it now, or I swear you’ll not be leaving the house again without me.”

“Is this really necessary?” But I opened my bag on the bed and took out the new phone. “Why are you acting like this? ”

“Because I can’t fucking trust you to do what you’re told.”

I ended the call.

I clenched the device, then dropped it facedown onto the bed. The nerve. Who did he think he was, barking orders at me like that?

One simple instruction, Wren .

Jesus Christ.

I wasn’t a servant. I was his boyfriend.

The phone buzzed again almost immediately.

I ignored it. If I let him talk to me like that, what kind of precedent would it set? Anger flared in my chest, hot and urgent. What happened to courtesy? What happened to using “please”? It rubbed me raw that he swore at me.

I stared at the phone until it stopped.

Knock knock.

The door creaked open, and Nik stepped inside, wrapped in nothing but a towel that did nothing to hide his erection. He raised a brow and tossed his phone at me.

“Talk to Maxim,” he said, not even pretending to be neutral.

“Seriously? He called you?” I caught the phone and flopped back onto the bed as Nik shut the door behind him.

With a heavy sigh, I pressed the phone to my ear. “Yes, Maxim?”

“What the fuck, Wren?” His voice was all fury and frustration. I held the phone away from my ear. “You hung up on me?”

Click.

I hung up on him. Again.

A second passed. Then another.

From down the hall came Jess’s distinct ringtone of “Milkshake.” I shook my head. He was calling her too?

“Wren!” Jess yelled through the walls. “Answer your fucking phone before I have to start charging him per minute like a hotline. I’m trying to get my hotline wired.”

My phone rang again. I inhaled deeply and gingerly picked up the phone. “Yes, Maxim? How may I assist you?” I answered in my most business-savvy voice.

There was a beat of silence.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Maxim’s voice came through, low and not angry now—just… broken.

My chest caved a little.

His tone wasn’t sharp anymore. It was soft, hurt. Like I’d taken something from him.

I exhaled, sitting on the edge of the bed again.

“You can’t just swear at me every time you’re upset.

” I tried to stay calm, even though my pulse was jackhammering in my neck.

“It’s rude, Maxim. It’s disrespectful. And you don’t get to treat me like that and then expect me to open my legs for you later.

That’s not how this relationship is going to work. ”

He didn’t say anything.

I swallowed. “I’m not a child, so don’t talk to me like one. Yes, you’re older, smarter, wealthy, but I’m still your partner, and I should be treated like your equal.”

Silence stretched. Too long. My heart dipped.

Maybe I had gone too far.

Maybe I?—

“You’re right,” he said softly. “I was wrong, solnyshko. I’m sorry.”

I blinked. That… hadn’t been the response I expected. Maybe more swearing and arguing until he either broke up with me or gave in.

“It’s okay,” I said, quieter now too. “I just need you to treat me like someone you love. Not like I’m looking to get away from you so I can take a ride on the first dick I see. Is that it? You think I’m going to cheat? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you. It’s the world I don’t trust with you. I can’t help feeling if I’m not with you, I can’t protect you in case something goes wrong.”

“Well, you can’t be with me all the time, and you can’t stop fate from happening.”

“Can’t I?”

“Max!”

“I know, I know. You’re right. It’s just that…I’ve never loved someone before you, Wren. Sometimes I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Fucking hell. I was supposed to be mad at him, but he was being all sweet and making me mushy inside.

“Well, I love you too, and you need to believe in that. I won’t let anyone else play in your sandbox, Mr. Morozov.”

He chuckled, the sound tired.

“And get some sleep. You’ve been working too much lately.”

“I’ll sleep when you get home. Did you turn the phone on?”

I reached over, hit the side button on the new phone. The screen glowed to life. “Yeah. It’s on.”

“Good,” he said. “When will you be home?”

I rolled my eyes and smiled. “I’ve been gone for twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes too long.”

“I can’t believe you’re so needy.”

“I blame you. Witch.”

“Well, I’m almost done packing. Jess and Nik might need like five more hours of recovery time given how they’re going at it, but I’ll be ready in another half an hour.”

“Make it fifteen,” he said. “I miss you.”

I closed my eyes. That one hit right in the solar plexus. How could he miss me already? That had to be some sort of red flag, didn’t it? “You do?”

“This house feels so fucking empty without you in it. ”

Goddammit. “I’m almost done,” I said again, but my tone had softened to mush. “But you’re going to have to make up for being such an asshole.”

A pause. Then, dryly, “I’ll take you to a car dealership tomorrow and?—”

I laughed. “Don’t you dare. I’ll see you in a few, Max.” What would I need a car for anyway? So Nik could get the pleasure of driving me around in it? No, thank you very much.

“I love you,” he said. “Be safe.”

My answer came like muscle memory.

“I love you too.”

I ended my call with Maxim and moved more quickly to pack up all I needed.

Despite arguing with him about how overprotective he was, I didn’t want to worry him.

I zipped open the small interior pouch of my suitcase to tuck in the last of my socks and that extra charger I always forgot existed.

My fingers brushed something stiff beneath the lining.

It felt like paper..

I pulled it out, expecting a receipt, but it was a photograph. I turned it over and nearly dropped it.

It was the only picture I had of the three of us—my mom, my dad, and me.

I was maybe eight years old, missing a front tooth and grinning like I’d won a lifetime supply of candy.

We were in some park I barely remembered, sitting on a faded plaid blanket.

My mom was cross-legged with her arms looped around her knees, laughing at something off-camera.

My dad was next to her with one hand resting on her shoulder and the other lightly on my back, his face caught midsmile like he wasn’t quite used to being photographed but was doing it anyway.

I sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, the photo balanced on my knees. For a few seconds, the noise from the other room faded away—Jess and Nik, the faint hum of the AC. All of it dimmed.

Grief came quietly, like it always did. A tightness in my chest. A prickling behind my eyes.

I missed my childhood. Back when everything was okay and I had a mother and a father. At least I’d gotten closure with my mom. I knew where she was buried. I’d been able to say good-bye.

But my dad…

That was a different kind of ache. The kind that never stopped buzzing under my skin. He was just gone. One day he was there, tired from work, eating cereal at the counter, ruffling my hair. And then he wasn’t. No explanation. No funeral. No answers.

Just gone like he was a figment of my imagination.

And now, staring at this picture, I realized how much I wanted to know what had happened to him. Where he went. Why he left. Why he stopped loving me.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there. At some point, the photo had gone blurry in my hands and my chest was hitching. Jess had somehow slipped in beside me without a word and wrapped her arms around me, soft and solid, her chin resting on my shoulder as I cried.

She didn’t say anything. She just held me.