Page 56 of Toxic Temptation (Krayev Bratva #1)

KOVAN

I slide the small box of Plan B across the kitchen counter toward her. “Here. For you.”

The furrow between Vesper’s eyebrows deepens. She picks up the box like it might explode. “You realize I’m a doctor, right? I can prescribe myself whatever I need.”

“This isn’t about what you can do. It’s about what I should do.” I lean against the counter, watching her process this. “I’m the one who came inside you, so I’m the one who handles the consequences.”

Her face flames red. She glances toward the stairs, listening for any sign of Luka. Then she turns back to me and hisses, “Could you not say things like that where he might hear?”

“He’s still asleep. And why should I bother? You weren’t worried about being quiet last night.”

The blush spreads down her neck. She opens the box with shaking hands. “Last night was a mistake. We agreed it meant nothing.”

“Did we?” I move closer, trapping her against the counter. “Because I don’t remember agreeing to anything of the sort.”

She swallows the pill dry, then meets my eyes. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying the rules changed the moment you fell apart on my tongue.” Her breath catches. “We’re both adults. We both have needs. No reason we can’t help each other out while this arrangement lasts.”

“That will complicate things.”

“How? We both know this ends when I get custody and you save your hospital. Nothing has to change—except we get to have incredible sex until then.”

She stares at me for a long moment. I can see the war happening behind her eyes—the careful, controlled doctor fighting against the woman who screamed my name four times last night.

“Just sex,” she says finally. “Nothing else changes.”

“Nothing else changes,” I confirm, grabbing my keys from the counter. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Going to work?”

I should tell her the truth: that I’m about to walk into Jeremy Fleming’s office and tear apart his entire fucking world. If he pisses me off, I’ll tear apart his limbs, too.

But she doesn’t need to know that yet.

“Yeah. Meetings all day. I’ll be back tonight.”

I almost lean in to kiss her goodbye. The impulse is so strong I have to grip the counter to stop myself. What the hell is wrong with me? That’s boyfriend behavior, and I am definitely not her boyfriend.

Instead, I pat her ass as I walk past. “See you later, Doc.”

That feels safer. Casual. Like something a man would do to a woman he’s just sleeping with.

I can work with that.

The receptionist at St. Raphael’s is old enough to be my mother, but she’s staring at me like I’m her next meal.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asks, running her tongue across her bottom lip.

“I don’t need one. Tell Mr. Fleming that Kovan Krayev is here to see him. Trust me—he’ll want to take this meeting.”

She disappears into his office, leaving me alone with the wall of certificates and awards. Vesper’s father’s name appears on half of them. Dr. Thomas Fairfax seemed like a busy man. The more I learn about Vesper’s family, the more curious I become.

But that’s a problem for another day.

“Mr. Krayev?” The receptionist holds the door open. “Mr. Fleming is delighted to meet you.”

Jeremy Fleming’s office looks like it was decorated by someone who thinks money equals taste. Everything is beige or brown or black, psychotically coordinated and completely soulless. The man himself is better looking than his photos suggested—less serial killer, more politician.

“This is unexpected.” Fleming stands, extending his hand. “Mr. Krayev, correct?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Please, sit.” He gestures to a woman standing near his desk. “This is my colleague, Dr. Shana Reed.”

I ignore the offered chair and barely acknowledge her. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all. How can I help you? Do you have family being treated here?”

Of course he assumes I’m here for a favor.

Probably thinks I want special treatment for some relative, and that’s just another day of business for him.

I’m sure he spends most of his time redirecting money to the wards where the “important” patients are recuperating.

Why waste money on life saving equipment for pediatrics patients when the mayor’s wife needs new lip filler to go along with her tummy tuck and rhinoplasty?

“I’m not here to ask for anything, Mr. Fleming,” I say. “In fact, I’m here to give you something very important.”

His eyes light up. “A donation? That would be wonderful?—”

“Not a donation.” I cross my arms. “Advice.”

The smile falters. “Advice?”

“The kind that might save your career. You should listen carefully.”

Fleming exchanges a look with the blonde. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“It’s simple. Take care of your assets. The good doctors you have working here. Stop wasting their talent and you might actually help people instead of just lining your pockets.”

His fake smile is disintegrating. “I’m sorry, what exactly?—”

“Vesper Fairfax is the best surgeon you have. Sidelining her is the stupidest business decision you’ve ever made.”

“This is about Vesper ?” The color vanishes from his face. He’s waxy and pale, sweat breaking out across his forehead.

“She’s asking for basic medical equipment. Funding for machines that save children’s lives. These are hardly unreasonable requests.”

“This is highly inappropriate?—”

“You want to talk about inappropriate?” I pull out my phone, scroll to a photo, and turn the screen toward him. “Is this appropriate? You and Dr. Reed here, getting cozy in your office while your wife visits her sick mother?”

Shana gasps. Fleming’s hands start to shake.

“I’ve told Vesper already. I don’t have the funds?—”

“Bullshit. I know exactly how much this hospital made last quarter. You’re sitting on enough money to fund ten pediatric wings. You just don’t want to share.”

“My hands are tied.”

“Then untie them.” I lean forward. “Give her what she needs.”

“I-I can’t believe this,” he hisses. “She hired a… a glorified gangster… to enter my place of work and threaten me?”

“Hired me?” I laugh uproariously. “God, no. Jeremy, I’m doing this for free. Because I like her. And I really don’t like you.”

The sweat begins to trickle down his forehead. “You don’t understand the complexities?—”

“I understand that you’re involved with the Keres.

I understand that you’ve been selling medical equipment and supplies to the highest bidder while children die in your pediatric ward.

” His eyes go wide with every successive accusation.

“Yeah, I know about your little side business.” I pull out a folded paper from my jacket.

“This is a list of changes you’re going to make.

Effective immediately. If these aren’t implemented by Friday, I’ll be back.

With friends. That would be… unpleasant.

I suggest you take all measures possible to avoid it. ”

I drop the paper on his desk. Then, whistling, I turn for the door.

But halfway there, I stop and look back. “Oh, and Jeremy? If anything happens to Dr. Fairfax—if she gets hurt, fired, or even looks sad because of something you did—I’ll be back even sooner than Friday. And our next chat won’t be nearly as fun as this one.”

I leave them sitting there in their expensive, soulless office, and walk out into the California sunshine feeling better than I have in weeks.

I’m waiting for Osip to bring the car around when I notice a maintenance truck idling in the corner of the parking lot. Six men in matching uniforms cluster around it, all wearing caps pulled low over their faces.

Something feels wrong. When one of them turns, I see the teardrop tattoo under his left eye.

Keres.

We draw our weapons at the same time.

Then the world explodes into gunfire.