Page 42 of Toxic Salvation (Krayev Bratva #2)

KOVAN

There aren’t many firsts I have left to give Vesper.

But joining the mile high club? Definitely one of them.

Not that she believes me as she traces lazy patterns across my chest, her skin still flushed from round three at thirty thousand feet. The private jet’s cabin feels smaller now, heavy with the scent of sex and her perfume.

“You’ve been flying private your entire life,” she says suspiciously, “and you really expect me to believe you never hooked up with some gorgeous flight attendant during one of those trips?”

“Never.”

“Bullshit.”

“You calling me a liar?”

She grins and shifts on top of me, making us both groan. “I’m calling you forgetful. How many women have there been, Kovan? Maybe you lost count.”

“You think I’ve slept with so many people I can’t remember having sex in the sky?” I grab her hips to stop her teasing movements before I embarrass myself. “What am I, some kind of degenerate?”

She kisses me instead of answering, which is probably smart. We both know my past isn’t exactly pristine.

My phone buzzes with a voice message from Waylen before she can elaborate on my questionable reputation. I grab it and hit play, putting it on speaker.

Luka’s voice fills the cabin, chirping and excited.

“Hi, Mama! Hi, Papa! I just wanted to say I miss you both so much. Waylen is taking me to the park now, and then we’re getting ice cream—the kind with the rainbow sprinkles I like.

And later, Charity is coming over for our movie marathon.

I already picked out five movies. Waylen says that’s too many, but I think he’s wrong.

Anyway, I’m so excited! Have fun at Mama’s conference thingy. I love you! Bye!”

Vesper’s entire face transforms. She gets this expression whenever Luka’s involved, proud and glowing and smiley and soft. It’s a good look on her.

“That kid,” she says, pressing her hand to her chest. “He gets me every single time.”

“Does it feel weird? Him calling you Mama?”

She considers this, absently tracing the constellation tattoo on my forearm. “Not as weird as it should. Sometimes, I forget I didn’t give birth to him myself.”

Blyat’ . The way she says it, so matter-of-fact, makes me shudder. This woman took my broken nephew and made him whole again. Made us both whole.

She slides off me and reaches for her clothes, suddenly all business. “I should get dressed. Don’t want to show up to this conference looking like I’ve been thoroughly corrupted at altitude.”

“But you have been thoroughly corrupted at altitude.”

“Yes, well, the medical community doesn’t need to know that.”

I watch her struggle into her pants. Her pregnant belly makes the process more complicated than it used to be. Five months along now, and she’s starting to show enough that we’ve had to get creative with her wardrobe.

“You’re nervous,” I observe.

She pauses, one leg in her pants, one leg out. “Maybe a little.”

“Just a little?”

“Okay, a lot.” She finally gets both legs in and starts working on the zipper. “It’s been over a year since I’ve been to one of these things. And this time, they want me to speak.”

“Speak? You didn’t mention that.”

“Because up until yesterday, I was trying to get out of it.” She finds her bra and starts wrestling it on. “But it’s important. What I learned during that surgery… other doctors need to know about it.”

“The conjoined twins from Arkansas?”

She nods. I love how her face lights up when she talks about her work. “It made headlines for a few days, but we managed to keep the kids’ identities protected. Within medical circles, though? Those twins are famous.”

I lean back and watch her transform from the woman who just rode me senseless into Dr. Vesper Fairfax, pediatric surgeon extraordinaire. It’s a magic trick. I love getting to see both sides of it.

“You know what you are?” I tell her.

“What?”

“A fucking rockstar.”

She laughs. “I’m a doctor, Kovan. Just a doctor.”

“‘Just a doctor’ who pulled off one of the most complex surgeries in modern medicine. ‘Just a doctor’ who saved two kids’ lives when everyone else said it was impossible.”

Her cheeks flush pink. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“I’m proud of you,” I say, and mean it completely. “Incredibly fucking proud.”

She stops fussing with her clothes and looks at me. Really looks at me, like she’s trying to memorize this moment.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “For coming with me. For supporting this.”

“Are you kidding? I get to watch my woman command a room full of brilliant people. I wouldn't miss it for the world.”

She finishes getting dressed while I pull my own clothes back on. The pilot announces our descent into Seattle over the intercom, his voice professional and discreet. Good thing, considering what he probably studiously ignored for the last two hours.

“Ready?” I ask as the plane banks toward the airport.

She takes a deep breath, shoulders back like she’s about to walk into battle. “Ready.”

I’ve seen Vesper work before.

Watched her in scrubs, commanding an OR with quiet authority. Seen her comfort terrified parents and make impossible decisions under pressure. She’s impressive as hell in her natural habitat.

But this? This is something else entirely.

She’s wearing a charcoal gray pantsuit that hides her bump perfectly, cut to make her look powerful rather than pregnant.

Her hair is pulled back in a sleek bun, and she’s traded her usual minimal makeup for something more dramatic—red lips, sharp eyeliner.

She looks like she could run a Fortune 500 company or perform brain surgery. Maybe both. Maybe simultaneously.

The conference center is crawling with doctors from all over the country. We spend the first hour walking around, making small talk, letting people fawn over her. She introduces me as her boyfriend every single time, and every single time she does it, I hate the word more.

Boyfriend . Like I’m some college kid she’s fucking around with.

Not the father of her child. Not the man who’s planning to put a ring on her finger the second this war with Ihor is over.

Just… boyfriend.

It’s my own fault, really. I’ve had dozens of opportunities to make this official, and I’ve chickened out every time. Too much chaos, too many variables, too many ways this could all go sideways.

But listening to her introduce me as her boyfriend for the tenth time in an hour? It’s like nails on a chalkboard.

“Dr. Fairfax!” A woman with silver hair and kind eyes approaches us. “I was hoping I’d run into you. Dr. Marissa Thayer, Children’s Hospital Boston.”

“Dr. Thayer, of course! It’s such a pleasure to meet you in person. I was actually just reading your preprint…”

They launch into medical talk that goes completely over my head, but I watch the way other doctors react when they hear Vesper’s name. Their faces change. Respect, admiration, sometimes envy.

And she has no idea.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice announces over the speaker system, “please take your seats. Our afternoon keynote is about to begin.”

We find seats near the front. Vesper’s hands are shaking as she adjusts her notes. I reach over to still them.

“You’ve got this,” I tell her.

“I know. I just… What if I mess up? What if I can’t explain it properly?”

“Then you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

The conference moderator takes the stage and starts her introduction.

“Our next speaker needs little introduction to those in pediatric surgery. Dr. Vesper Fairfax recently completed one of the most complex surgical procedures in modern medicine: the successful separation of craniopagus conjoined twins with shared brain tissue. Please join me in welcoming Dr. Fairfax.”

The applause is thunderous. Vesper stands, smooths her jacket, and walks onto that stage like she belongs there.

Because she fucking does.

For the next hour, I watch her break down the most complicated surgery I’ve ever heard of into digestible pieces.

She walks the audience through slides, diagrams, even a 3D model to show how she and her team approached the problem.

She talks about the risks, the failed attempts from other surgical teams, the innovative techniques they developed specifically for this case.

She never takes credit for herself. Every success gets attributed to her team, her mentors, the hospital’s resources. She’s so humble it almost pisses me off. I want to stand up and tell this room full of doctors that the woman on stage is a genius.

They should be bowing.

They should avert their fucking eyes out of respect.

They are not worthy.

“The key breakthrough came when we realized traditional separation techniques wouldn’t work,” she’s saying, pointing to a scan on the giant screen behind her. “The twins shared not just skull bone, but critical brain tissue. We had to develop an entirely new approach.”

A hand shoots up in the audience. “Dr. Fairfax, how did you manage the blood loss during the procedure? Previous attempts at this type of separation have resulted in massive hemorrhaging.”

“Excellent question. We developed a four-staged approach…”

She fields question after question with ease, never once looking uncertain or unprepared. The audience is eating it up. I can see some doctors frantically taking notes and others recording her responses on their phones.

Near the end, a young doctor in the third row raises his hand. “Dr. Fairfax, this type of surgery typically has a very high mortality rate. What made you confident you could succeed where others had failed?”

Vesper pauses, considers the question. “Honestly? I wasn’t confident we’d succeed. But I was confident we had to try. These children deserved every chance we could give them.”

The room goes quiet for a moment. Then someone starts clapping, and soon, the entire auditorium is on their feet.

As Vesper leaves the stage, I hear fragments of conversation from the doctors around me:

“Incredible technique…”

“Never seen anything like it…”

“She’s so young to be doing this level of work…”

“Beautiful and brilliant. Her boyfriend is lucky as hell.”

That last comment comes from a guy about my age, and I have to resist the urge to grab him by the throat and explain exactly how lucky I am.

Instead, I make my way toward the stage exit, where Vesper is being swarmed by admirers. She looks overwhelmed by all the attention. Her eyes scan the crowd until they find mine.

When I see the exhaustion there, I push through the group of doctors and reach for her hand. “Excuse us,” I say politely while I tow her away from the crowd. “The good doctor needs a break.”

“Where are we going?” she asks as I lead her out of the auditorium and into the lobby.

“Somewhere I can do this properly.”

I spot a secluded alcove behind one of the conference center’s decorative columns and pull her behind it. The space is partially hidden by enormous plant pots filled with some kind of tropical ferns.

“Kovan, what are you?—”

I cut her off with a kiss, backing her against the column until there’s nowhere for her to go. When I finally let her breathe, her lips are swollen and her carefully styled hair is starting to come undone.

“You were incredible up there,” I tell her.

“Thank you, but we can’t do this here. Anyone could walk by.”

“Good. I hope they do.”

“I’m a professional, Kovan. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Your reputation is rock solid. You just proved that to a room full of your peers.” I slide my hand under her jacket, feeling the warmth of her skin through her silk blouse. “Now, let me prove how proud I am of you.”

“We’re in public!” she protests, but her body is already responding to my touch.

“Barely. And I don’t give a fuck who sees us.” I find the button of her pants and work it loose. “I want everyone in this building to know exactly who you belong to.”

“You’re insane,” she breathes, but she’s not stopping me as I slide my hand inside her pants.

“Insane for you,” I agree, finding her already wet and ready. “Always have been.”

She gasps as I stroke her. Her head lolls back against the column. “K-Kovan…”

“That’s right. Say my name.”

“Someone’s going to see us.”

“Then they’ll see how much I worship you.”

I work her with my fingers until she’s trembling, until she’s forgotten all about propriety and reputation and is focused only on what I’m doing to her. When she comes apart in my arms, I swallow her moans with my mouth, keeping her quiet even as her body shakes.

“Fuck,” she pants against my lips as she comes down. “You’re going to get us arrested.”

“Worth it.”

She straightens her clothes while I watch, already planning round two back at the hotel.

“You know what?” she says as she smooths her hair back into place. “We should definitely come to more conferences.”

I grin and pull her back into my arms. “I was thinking the exact same thing.”

That night, back in our hotel suite, I watch Vesper prepare for the evening reception. She’s changed into a black cocktail dress that shows off her new curves, and I can’t decide if I want to show her off or hide her away from all the doctors who’ve been eyefucking her all day.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she teases when she catches my reflection in the mirror as she puts on earrings.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to devour me.”

“I do want to devour you.”

She turns around, and there’s something fresh in her posture. More confident. More… certain.

“Kovan,” she says, “I need to tell you something.”

I go still. “What is it?”

“Today, listening to all those doctors talk about my work, watching you watch me…” She takes a step closer. “I realized something.”

“Yeah?” I prod.

“I love my job. I love saving lives, I love pushing the boundaries of what’s possible. But none of it means anything without you and Luka there to celebrate with me.”

“Vesper…”

“I’m not done.” She reaches for my hands. “I know we haven’t talked about the future much. I know there are still things we need to figure out. But I need you to know—whatever comes next, I want us to face it together. All of us. As a family.”

Her words find a home somewhere deep in my chest, right next to all the other things I refuse to examine too closely.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying yes,” she says simply. “To whatever question you’re too scared to ask me. Yes to everything. Yes to us.”

I stare at her, this brilliant, brave woman who just offered me everything without asking for guarantees in return.

“Vesper Fairfax,” I say finally, “you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Is that so?”

Instead of answering, I kiss her. And in that kiss, I try to tell her everything I’m not ready to say out loud yet.

That she’s saved me in every way a person can be saved.

That I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure she never regrets choosing me.

That as soon as this war is over, I’m going to make her mine in every way that matters.

But for now, this kiss will have to be enough.