Page 22 of Toxic Salvation (Krayev Bratva #2)

VESPER

I’m trying to be objective, I swear. It’s the only way I can keep my head and heart intact.

Objective, I tell myself as I look at him. Stay objective.

It’s hard, though. I’m studying the sharp angles of Kovan’s cheekbones while he concentrates on backing out of his parking spot. His jaw works in this particular way when he’s focused, a kind of humming, pulsing tension.

His hair is glossy, looks soft.

The straight line of his nose.

Eyes. Green eyes. Bright green eyes that make smart women do stupid things.

It all makes objectivity impossible.

And that’s not fair. The looks would be enough all on their own, but even if they weren’t, there’s more. He’s so charming when he wants to be. Caring. Thoughtful. Seductive in ways that bypass rational thought entirely.

The man can be terrifying one minute and protective the next. He can play the villain or the knight depending on what serves him best. He manipulates people like a master puppeteer.

And the worst part is, by the time he’s got his fangs sunk into you, you want to be manipulated by him. You ask for it. Beg for it.

Knowing all this should make me immune.

It doesn’t.

Somehow, despite all my sneaking and spying, I managed to leave his office with more questions than answers. Not only did I fail to discover anything useful about his operations, I handed over my deepest secret. The one thing I swore I’d never tell anyone except Waylen and Charity.

He coaxed it out of me, sure. But I didn’t have to make it easy for him. I could have demanded information in return. Instead, I gave him everything and got nothing.

This is why I’m having a baby with a criminal. Despite my medical degrees, I’m an idiot when it comes to Kovan Krayev.

Objectivity is impossible.

“You’re quiet,” he says.

“Am I?” I keep my tone neutral, watching raindrops streak down the windshield.

“Yes. And you’ve been staring at me for the last ten minutes.”

My cheeks warm. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

His gaze flicks to me, curious, but he doesn’t push. A few minutes later, we pull up outside the private clinic where my new OBGYN practices. According to Kovan, Dr. Alison Mann is the best in the state.

“Wait there.” Kovan stops me from opening my door. “I’ll get the umbrella.”

“It’s just a little rain?—”

But he’s already jogging around the SUV, umbrella in hand, as if the drizzle might dissolve me on contact. By the time we reach the clinic entrance, he’s soaked through and I’m perfectly dry.

“Are you cold?” He shrugs out of his jacket. “Here.”

“Then you’ll be freezing.” I try to back away, but it’s hard not to notice how the wet shirt clings to his chest and shoulders.

“I don’t feel cold. Put it on.”

He drapes the jacket over my shoulders before I can protest further. The warmth is immediate, but it’s the scent that undoes me. If he weren’t watching, I’d bury my face in the fabric and breathe him in.

“Mr. and Mrs. Krayev?”

The nurse’s choice of words startle me. I wait for Kovan to correct her, but he simply gestures for me to follow.

Mrs. Krayev. That’s not right. I’m not his wife. I’m barely his anything. Just the woman carrying his child. And yet…

It feels strangely fitting.

When he glances at me, I look away and pretend to check my phone.

In the examining room, he helps me onto the table with careful hands. “You sure you’re okay?”

This is my opening. I could ask for the truth right now. But the moment I do, that concerned expression will disappear. The gentle touch at my back will vanish. He’ll retreat behind his walls, and the doors will seal shut, and any hope of a future will disappear.

I look at him, open my mouth, and say, “… I’m fine.”

Dr. Mann enters with a smile. She runs through the routine checks, making polite conversation while she prepares the ultrasound equipment.

“I do want to mention that your blood pressure is elevated, Vesper,” she notes. “We need to bring that number down.”

“How?” Kovan asks before I can respond.

“Usually, it’s stress-related. Try to enjoy this pregnancy instead of worrying about it. And Dad—” Kovan actually flinches at the title. “Your job is to make sure she gets plenty of rest and relaxation. She’s doing all the heavy lifting right now.”

“Understood,” he grits out.

“Perfect. Now, let’s see how your little one is doing.”

She sets to work with the ultrasound wand. It doesn’t take long for the image to blink to life on the screen. This time, our son actually looks human. Small and oddly proportioned, but recognizably a person.

“Oh my God.” My hand finds Kovan’s without conscious thought. “Look at him.”

“I see him.” Kovan’s stare stays fixed on the monitor with an intensity that makes my chest tight. “He’s big.”

I find my gaze moving from the monitor to the man at my side. That intense look of pride he’s wearing does something to me, turning my insides into putty.

He’s going to be such a good father.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” Dr. Mann says, slipping out.

“It’s surreal,” I whisper, if only because the silence feels too big and I need to fill it with something.

“That’s our baby.” Kovan squints at the monitor. “Our son.”

The reality hits me all at once. In a few months, there will be an actual baby. I’ll be a mother. Kovan will be a father. And there will be no going back from any of it.

But…

I need answers before then. I need to know who he really is and what he’s really doing. Because once I see our son in his arms—once I watch him become a dad—I won’t be able to walk away.

No matter what I discover about him.

“Vesper?” Kovan is studying my face now instead of the screen. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I force a smile. “Just processing.”

We both know I’m lying.