Page 37 of Sold to the Russian (Nikolai Bratva Brides #6)

“You were right,” Fedya said as he dumped the contents of Cormac’s package on Mikhail’s desk.

He could barely breathe as he stood amongst his brothers and cousins in the Pakhan’s study. His chest felt like it was caving in, as if there were an open, gaping wound tearing wider and wider with every reminder of Maeve’s betrayal. He’d rather be shot a hundred times than relive that moment.

He had brought her into his home, his life, and his family.

And while she hadn’t raised a hand against them, she’d lied repeatedly.

She’d withheld everything, and fine, maybe she had no reason to owe him loyalty in the beginning.

She hated him for as long as he could remember, and she had every reason to.

But they’d grown past that. They’d grown closer, become intimate too many times with each other.

He’d admitted just how much he loved her.

But what hurt the most, what killed him, what burned him to ashes was knowing that she’d had a hundred chances to come clean.

Yet, he had to find out in the worst fucking way possible.

There wasn’t even a little bit of surprise on Mikhail’s features. “I usually am.” He cast a bored look at the tongue on his table and gestured for one of the guards to get rid of him.

Fedya wasn’t in the mood for his cousin’s gloating. “This isn’t the time for a victory dance.”

“No,” the Pakhan agreed, leaning back in his chair. “But I’d be a fool if I said I didn’t expect something like this. We all did.”

Fedya had never felt so fucking stupid in his entire life.

“She could’ve messed us up,” Viktor said finally, dragging a hand over his jaw. “She had the opportunity to, but she didn’t.”

Mikhail shook his head in disagreement. “Just because she hesitated doesn’t mean she didn’t think about it. She didn’t tell him the truth, did she? What’s the chance she would have told him if this letter hadn’t come at all?”

Fedya’s fingers found his hair, tugging hard at the roots to the point where he felt pain.

His mind felt fractured into two equal parts, one half devastated and enraged, and hurt beyond compare.

But the other was scrambling to protect her in any way possible because deep down, he knew that despite all of this, he wouldn’t let her go.

Not even over his dead body. It disgusted him how achingly he loved her.

“She’s pregnant,” he announced, staring straight at the wall behind Mikhail. “I’d rather die than release her to her father.”

“How convenient,” Ivan, one of Mikhail’s brothers, muttered from where he stood at the corner of the room.

“Aleksander will come for me, that’s for sure.

I fucked his wife without knowing who she was, and he still hasn’t gotten over it yet.

So the likelihood that he will go to Maeve is slim.

As it is, Maeve’s enemy is her father and her father alone. ”

“We could try to make Cormac still believe he has a leash on her,” Kostya said, tilting his head. “Let him believe he has the upper hand.”

“No,” Fedya frowned, his answer abrupt. “He mutilated her mother-figure to send a message. He knows Maeve’s lost to him and that’s why he’s pushing now.”

“And you?” Mikhail asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s your move?”

“I get her out, somewhere far away from here, away from all this.” He stared at the burner phone on Mikhail’s table like it would explode any minute from now. “Until Cormac is dead.”

Ilya frowned. “You’re just gonna take her and run?”

“I’m protecting my family,” Fedya responded harshly, sending a venomous look his brother’s way. “That includes her now and the child in her womb. If that’s your definition of running, then be my guest.”

“Alright, alright, let’s all relax now,” Viktor, ever the pacifier, said gently, easing the tension in the room. “That sounds like a good idea, Fedya. I’m pretty sure the rest of us can handle Cormac, Aleksander, and their pack of wolves.”

“Take the jet,” Mikhail said. “Viktor’s right. We can deal with Aleksander and the rest of the Irish scum. When it’s done, we’ll call you back.”

Fedya gave a tight nod and, without waiting for any further debate, he left the room. His chest tightened the closer he got to their wing. He was pissed at her, and he had no reason not to show her just how hurt he was.

But then he opened the door, and what he found hit like a sucker punch to the gut.

Maeve was curled on the floor, her back against the side of the bed, knees pulled to her chest. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her cheeks flushed and swollen. Her hands trembled as she wiped at her face, even though the tears kept coming.

Jesus Christ, he’d never seen her look so small before. So broken. She was always pretending to be stronger than she was, and he constantly admired her for it. But seeing her like this made his anger chip away a little too quickly.

“You came back,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying for God knows how long.

Fedya clenched his jaw until his teeth hurt. He wanted to stay cold, needed to show how much she’d hurt him. Wanted to keep the distance that might protect him from the way her pain gutted him.

“I had to,”

“I’m sorry.” She was apologizing again, her voice cracking delicately at the end. “I really am. You have to believe me. I was going to tell you tonight. I didn’t tell you earlier because I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

He could never hate her. Hate was foreign when it came to her.

“You were pushed into this, I understand that,” he said, his voice a little softer now. “But you should’ve trusted me, Maeve. You should’ve loved me the way I loved you.”

“I do love you,” she said, annoyed now, pushing herself to her feet.

“Why do you think it’s been this hard for me?

Why do you think I kept this a secret from you even when I had the chance to?

It’s because I love you, Fedya. I love you and I’m selfish, and that’s why I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want to lose you. ”

“You lost me the second you lied.”

A sob hiccuped in her throat. “That’s a lie.” She walked closer to him, wiping furiously at her cheeks. “Tell me that’s a lie right now.”

He ignored her statement because they both knew it was a lie. “I’m angry at you, Maeve. Hell, I’m fucking furious, but I’m hurt too. I’ve never been so hurt by anyone before.”

She looked like she was going to cry all over again.

“But I’m not going to punish you by handing you over to your father.” Anger raced in his veins at the thought of it. “I wouldn’t do that even if I were mad.”

Her lip trembled. “You won’t?”

“Fuck no, I won’t. You’re still my wife, still carrying our child.

” He grabbed his car keys from the nightstand and shrugged a jacket over her shoulders.

Then he pulled open some shelves and grabbed two guns and a bunch of ammunition.

“We’re leaving tonight. Mikhail’s lending us the jet.

We’ll go somewhere remote, somewhere safe. No contact until it’s all over.”

“What about your family?” she sniffed, wrapping the jacket tighter around her torso. “And Aleksander?”

“They’ll handle it,” he said, leading her out of the room. “You and the baby are my priority.”

She was quiet as she followed behind him, quiet as she slid into his car, quiet as he drove under the cover of night.

Then he felt her shift, her warm gaze on the side of his face. “You don’t hate me?”

Fedya didn’t know whether to smile or frown. Didn’t know whether to find her question funny or annoying. Because why the hell would he hate her?

“I’m not sure I know how to do that,” he said, stepping on the gas.

He turned and saw her tiny little smile as she looked away, staring out the window. His eyes slid to her fingers cradling her stomach, and his determination grew tenfold.

That was until a bullet tore through the front tire of the car, causing the vehicle to lurch violently against the asphalt.

Fedya stretched out a hand towards Maeve, cursing under his breath as he fought to maintain control of the vehicle.

Behind them, there was a glint of headlights—several of them—approaching quickly from the other side of the road, an ensemble of black cars coming to a stop with multiple suited men rushing out like a swarm of bees.

Maeve clutched at her seatbelt as they swerved off the slick road and came to a jerking halt near the tree line. Smoke hissed from the overheated engine, and Fedya grabbed a gun from under his seat.

“I need you to stay here,” he said, his voice a calm in the chaos as he checked the barrel of his gun. “Stay down until I come back, okay?”

He barely waited for her response before getting out of the car.