Page 58 of Toxic Salvation (Krayev Bratva #2)
KOVAN
“Kovan?”
Vesper’s voice cuts through the fog in my head. I’ve been sitting in this chair for three hours, staring at nothing, letting the darkness eat me alive. The weight on my chest feels permanent now—a concrete block that settled there the moment I found Denis bleeding out on those steps.
She slips out of bed, bare feet silent on the hardwood. The moonlight catches her skin through my old t-shirt. It’s so worn it’s practically see-through. Her hair falls in waves over her shoulders, messy from sleep but still beautiful enough to stop my breath.
“Why are you sitting here in the dark?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I can’t talk about it.”
She takes a step back, and I immediately want to eat my words. I didn’t mean to sound cold and I’m not trying to be a bastard. I just don’t know how to process failure.
And tonight… tonight has been nothing but failure.
Instead of retreating to the safety of our bed, she walks closer. Gets on her knees in front of me, her hands settling on my thighs with gentle pressure.
“You can tell me what’s going on. You can tell me anything, Kovan.”
“Go back to bed, Vesper.”
Her spine straightens. Her jaw sets in that stubborn line I know so well.
“I’m your wife. I’m not going anywhere.” Her hands move up and down my legs, from my knees to my thighs and back again.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t demand to know.
But I will sit here with you in the dark for as long as you need. ”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I have a ring on my finger that says I do. And even if I didn’t, I would still be right here. Because I have your back, Kovan, even if you don’t trust me.”
My head snaps up. “I do trust you. This isn’t about trust.”
She sighs but doesn’t answer. Instead, she pushes herself up and pulls my head to her chest, her arms wrapping around me.
I don’t make the conscious decision to hold her back; it just happens. My arms circle her waist, and I press my face against the soft cotton covering her breasts. I can hear her heartbeat through the fabric—steady, strong, alive.
The sound fills me with something I can’t name. Hope, maybe. Or just the desperate, flailing need to hold onto something good when everything else is falling apart.
I drag her onto my lap and lean into her warmth.
We stay wrapped around each other as the moonlight shifts from dull gray to bright silver. Time moves differently when you’re sitting in the wreckage of your plans and the arms of your loved one. Minutes stretch into hours. Hours compress into seconds.
Finally, my chest loosens enough for me to speak.
“Denis is dead.”
Her arms tighten around me. “Denis… Ihor’s man?”
“He was the only man Ihor trusted. Now, he’s dead. And so is our best chance at winning this war. We’ve lost the element of surprise.”
“So Ihor knew Denis had defected to you?”
I nod. “There was no other reason to kill him. No reason to kill any of them.”
She goes rigid in my arms. “There are more?”
“Right after we found Denis, we got another call. Another one of our men. Then another. Then another.” I can barely form the words, they’re so bitter. “Five in total. All men whom Ihor had under his thumb until I gave them hope. Until I promised them something better.”
“So he knows what you’ve been doing?”
“He’s decided to go on the offensive. But he’s doing it smart—hiring mercenaries so I can’t call him out in the open. He’s playing cat and mouse.”
“What do you mean?”
“He tracked down a local gang and paid them to kill our men. There was nothing noble about their deaths. Nothing honorable. They were gunned down in alleys and parking lots like dogs.”
I look up to see she’s gone pale, though her jaw is still set in that determined line. The pallor in her skin makes me cringe. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”
“Kovan Krayev,” she snaps, “don’t you dare apologize for sharing with me. Not ever. I don’t care how bad or how scary it gets—I want to know. Especially if it’s something that makes you want to sit in the dark with the lights off.”
She takes my face in her hands, staring at me with such fierce intensity that for a moment, I believe she really can fix everything broken in my world.
“I don’t want you to worry about this,” I insist in a low rumble. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can. My point is, you don’t have to handle it alone. You don’t have to do anything alone anymore, Kovan. I’m here now; I’m your wife. I want to be here.”
My chin sags to my chest. “All those men… I promised to protect them.”
“You can’t protect everyone all the time, my love.” Her voice goes soft, soothing. “But I’ll tell you what you can do now. You can take care of their families. These men—they left behind people, didn’t they? Loved ones? Mothers, fathers, wives, children?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s make sure they’re all taken care of. Let’s give them funerals worthy of the sacrifice they made. I can plan everything.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
I shake my head at this angel who somehow fell into my lap. “Why?”
She smiles and takes my hand, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. “Because I’m your wife. It’s my job.”
Three days later, I’m standing in front of our bedroom mirror, fighting with a silk tie that refuses to cooperate. I’ve tied this same knot a thousand times before, but today, my fingers won’t work properly. Everything feels clumsy and wrong.
“Fuck!” I throw the tie to the floor.
There’s a soft sound behind me. I turn to find Vesper watching me, our son cradled in her arms. She walks to the bassinet by her side of the bed and settles Tali down gently, then picks up my discarded tie.
“Let me.”
I stand perfectly still as she approaches, that soft smile playing at her lips as she drapes the silk around my neck.
“I used to tie my dad’s ties for him when he had important meetings or conferences,” she murmurs. “He used to say I was his good luck charm.”
I watch her work, noting the concentration on her face, the way her fingers move with confidence, wondering for the millionth time if I committed a grave sin when I dragged her into my world.
What does it say about me that I’ve dragged her into this cesspit? If I really loved her, shouldn’t I want better for her than this life?
“There.” She touches my chest. “Perfect. You’re ready.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” She steps back to look at the suit I’m wearing. “Could you give me five minutes? I won’t take long.”
“Take long for what?”
“I have to get dressed for the funerals.”
My face hardens. “Vesper—you’re not coming with me.”
Her smile vanishes. “Excuse me?”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done over the last couple of days. But there’s no need for you to be at the funeral. You’ve got Luka and Tali, and this is going to be a long day.”
“I’m prepared for it to be a long day. I’m coming with you, Kovan. It’s already decided.”
“Vesper—”
“No!” she cries, sharp and fierce. “I get that you’ve got a lot going on, but avoiding me can’t be one of your coping mechanisms. I’m your wife, Kovan. Unless you’re trying to tell me that those vows we made on our balcony were just us playing pretend?”
“Of course they weren’t?—”
“Then why are you pushing me away?”
“Vesper, I’m not pushing you away.”
“Then what is it?” She reaches out tentatively, placing her hand on my arm. “Please, just tell me what’s going on with you, because I’m going crazy here.”
I swallow. Now or never, coward.
“I guess I’m scared that, if you’re exposed to too much of my world, you’re going to want to leave it.”
She looks at me for so long that panic starts to set in. That’s it—she wanted an out and I just handed her one. Fool. You dense fucking fool.
“For a smart man, you sure can be stupid sometimes.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“I love you, Kovan. No matter what I see, no matter what I hear. No matter how ugly it gets, I love you and I’m not going anywhere.” She holds her hand out to me, and I take it without hesitation. “Come on, husband. We don’t want to be late.”
There’s a moment of uncertainty in her expression. She’s waiting for me to object, to push back, to insist that she stay behind.
But I realize that as much as I want to do all those things, I want her by my side even more.
So I squeeze her hand.
And we leave together.