Page 12 of Toxic Salvation (Krayev Bratva #2)

VESPER

There’s shattered glass all over the floor when Luka and I rush into Kovan’s office. The remnants of what used to be a crystal tumbler glitter across the hardwood, and Kovan stands in the center of it all, his knuckles split and bloody.

“Everything alright?” I ask, though the evidence suggests otherwise.

“Everything’s fine,” Kovan replies, but his posture tells a different story. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that he is the one responsible for the mess. Looks like he cut his palm in the process, too.

“No, it’s not.” Luka’s playful demeanor from moments ago has vanished. “I’ve seen that look before. Something’s wrong.”

“Luka—”

“I’m not a baby.” Luka’s chin juts out defiantly. “I know when something bad is happening.”

Kovan runs his uninjured hand through his hair. “This isn’t exactly bad news. It’s just… complicated.”

I rest my hand on Luka’s shoulder. “If it concerns him, maybe you should tell him the truth. He’s right—he’s not a baby.”

Kovan’s gaze flicks to mine, and I can see him weighing his next move. For a moment, I expect him to dismiss my input entirely. Instead, he exhales slowly and gestures toward the leather sofa.

“Sit down, malysh . We need to talk.”

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” I start to say, but Kovan shakes his head.

“Stay. This affects you, too.”

My stomach rumbles. Nothing good ever starts with those words.

Luka takes my hand as we settle onto the sofa. Kovan perches on the edge of the coffee table facing us, his forearms braced against his knees. Up close, I can see the exhaustion around his eyes.

“It’s about your mother,” he begins.

Luka’s grip on my hand tightens immediately. “I thought she was in jail.”

“She was. But Ihor posted her bail last week. They’ve petitioned the court to reinstate her visitation rights.” Kovan pauses. “And… the judge granted their request.”

“What?” he rasps. “No! I don’t want to see her.”

“I know you don’t. And I fought it as hard as I could. But the court believes children benefit from contact with both parents, even when—” He stops himself.

“Even when what?” Luka presses.

“Even when those parents don’t deserve you.”

Luka’s face crumples. “She doesn’t want to see me anyway. She’s always angry when I’m around. Always yelling or telling me I’m doing something wrong.”

Every protective instinct I have screams at me to say something, to comfort him, to rage about the injustice of forcing a child to spend time with someone who makes him feel worthless.

But this conversation belongs to Kovan and Luka. I need to let them have it.

“You’re right,” Kovan says simply. “You do deserve better. But I’m not going to let you face her alone. The visits are supervised—once every two weeks, one hour maximum. Either Pavel, Osip, or I will be there the entire time.”

“What about Vesper?” Luka asks, squeezing my hand tighter.

“Vesper has a lot going on right now.”

“But you’ll be here when I get back, right?” Luka turns to me, his eyes huge with panic. “You won’t disappear again? You didn’t even say goodbye last time. What if you leave and never come back?”

It would be so easy to tell him the truth—that his uncle threw me out, that I wasn’t the one who chose to leave. But starting this new arrangement by throwing Kovan under the bus feels wrong, no matter how much he might deserve it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye properly,” I tell him. “That was my mistake. But this time is different. I’m not going anywhere.”

“She’s telling the truth,” Kovan adds. “I can promise you that.”

Luka looks between us, chewing his bottom lip. “I still don’t want to see Mama.”

“Come here, Luka.”

The boy doesn’t hesitate. He throws himself into Kovan’s arms, and Kovan holds him tight, one large hand rubbing slow circles on his back. The tenderness in the gesture makes me ache with longing—not just for what we used to have, but for what I wish we could give this child.

I need to move. To give them space. To put some distance between myself and the impossible pull I still feel toward Kovan.

“How about we do something fun today?” Kovan suggests, smoothing Luka’s hair back from his forehead. “Whatever you want.”

Luka brightens up slightly. “Can Vesper come?”

Kovan’s gaze meets mine briefly before he looks away. “If she wants to.”

The careful neutrality in his tone tells me everything I need to know. He’s tolerating my presence for Luka’s sake, nothing more.

“I can’t today,” I say, rising from the sofa. “I need to visit my mom. But you two should go have fun. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Can’t you see her tomorrow?” Luka’s face falls.

“I’m afraid not, sweetheart. She’s really sick, and I need to talk to her doctors today.”

“Sick how?” Luka asks quietly.

“She has cancer.”

His face falls. “That’s really bad, isn’t it?”

“It’s serious,” I admit, fighting to keep my tone steady. “But she has excellent doctors and a good treatment plan.”

“You’re a doctor, though!” Luka’s faith in me is absolute and heartbreaking. “You can save her.”

I force a smile. “I’m certainly going to try.”

“You can do it! You’re the best doctor ever.”

The unwavering confidence in his statement nearly undoes me. I feel my composure starting to crack. Kovan must notice, because he stands and gently steers Luka toward the door.

“Go grab your backpack and put on your comfortable shoes. We’ll head out in a few minutes.”

Luka gives me one more fierce hug before bounding upstairs. The moment he’s gone, the tears I’ve been holding back spill over.

“Dammit,” I mutter, wiping at my cheeks.

Kovan hands me a tissue from the box on his desk. “You okay?”

“Oh, y’know, just the cruel irony of it all.” I blow my nose and try to compose myself. “I’m a doctor, and I can never seem to save the people who matter most. That’s all.”

“You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

“I keep thinking about my father,” I admit in a whisper. “I think he was punishing himself. That’s why he refused the transplant. He felt guilty about all those organs he helped steal.”

Kovan doesn’t respond immediately. “It’s possible,” he says finally.

“There’s no other explanation. I begged him to fight. I cried, I screamed, I told him I’d never forgive him if he gave up.” The memory surfaces with painful clarity. “He said there were people who deserved a liver more than he did. That he didn’t want to take any more than he already had.”

“Sounds like a man carrying a heavy burden.”

“At least that’s something, right?” My laugh comes out hollow. “If he felt guilty, he couldn’t have been completely evil.”

Kovan reaches toward me instinctively, then catches himself and lets his hand drop. “Vesper?—”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be dumping this on you. It’s just that I thought I knew him. Everything I believed about my father turns out to be a lie.”

“It’s okay to be angry with him. God knows I’m angry with mine. He’s the one who started the organ trafficking operation in the first place.”

“How do you live with it?”

“I don’t. All I can do is try to undo what he did. Try to do enough good to balance out the damage.”

I study his face, searching for something I’m not sure I want to find. “Is that what this is? Taking me in, offering to help my mother—is this your way of paying it forward?”

For the first time since we started talking, Kovan meets my eyes directly. He looks weary. Uncertain.

“Maybe.”

The honesty stings more than a lie would have. But maybe it’s better this way. Simpler. There’s too much history between us now, too much pain and betrayal and blood.

Our fathers worked together to destroy lives. That’s not the foundation for a great love story. That’s the setup for a tragedy.

And I’ve had enough tragedy for one lifetime.

“I should go,” I say, moving toward the door. “Tell Luka I’ll see him when he gets back.”

Kovan nods, already turning back to his desk. “Drive carefully.”

As I reach the doorway, I pause. “Kovan?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For trying to protect him.”

A shadow passes over his face before he exhales and nods. “He’s a good kid. He deserves better than what he’s been dealt.”

“So do you.”

We stare at each other for a long, taut moment. “I’ll see you later, Vesper.”

I leave him there among the broken glass, wondering if some things are too shattered to ever be made whole again.