Page 57 of Toxic Temptation (Krayev Bratva #1)

VESPER

I’ve effectively been fired.

Hours slashed. Pay slashed. A boss who hates my guts and probably wishes I’d disappear entirely.

And yet the only thing consuming my thoughts is the small white pill sitting in my palm and the green-eyed man who gave it to me.

How did I become this person? The girl who puts boy troubles ahead of her career imploding? The girl who sits around obsessing over a man ?

Susan B. Anthony is rolling in her grave.

Questions I shouldn’t be asking keep cycling through my mind: What did last night mean to him? Does this fake, convoluted thing between us actually have potential? Is it real? Is anything?

Every time I push those questions away, they come flooding back, attached to memories: his hands on my skin, his mouth against mine, the feverish snarl in which he whispered my name in the dark.

The rush feels familiar—like those first few times in surgery. The thrill of holding a life in your hands. The indescribable high of knowing you have the power to save or destroy.

Except this time, I’m the one on the operating table. My chest is splayed open, ribs cracked wide, heart exposed—and the prognosis doesn’t look good.

If I had to deliver the news to my family, I’d have to be honest: “I’m sorry. We did everything we could, but we couldn’t save her. She’s lost her heart. It belongs to Kovan Krayev now.”

I’m still staring at the pill when Waylen walks into the kitchen.

“Top o’ the mornin’, sister dearest.”

I jump, slamming my hand down to cover the evidence. “Uh, er, morning.”

He stops, studying my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You look guilty. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.” I hide my hand behind my back, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. “Last night was rough, that’s all.”

Super rough. And also super tender. And super long, and super thorough, and super multi-orga ? —

“Rough how?”

I hide my face so he doesn’t see me blushing at the unwelcome sex flashbacks. “Jeremy basically fired me. Cut my hours and salary. He claims I’m overworked and making mistakes.”

Waylen’s face darkens. “That fucking bastard.”

I try to slip the pill into my pocket, but I miss entirely. It falls, rolls across the floor, and disappears under the cabinet.

Wonderful.

“Looking for something?” Waylen rounds the counter, peering at the spot on the floor where I’m staring in aghast horror.

“No. Just, uh… checking if the floor is clean.”

He stares at me with that worried expression I know too well. “You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

“I’m fine. Just upset about work.”

“He can’t get away with this,” Waylen growls. “I should go over there and punch his fake teeth in.”

“Please don’t. He’s looking for any excuse to fire me completely, and I’m pretty sure that assault and battery would do the trick.”

Jaw still clenched, Waylen reaches for the coffee pot. “Remember when he used to come to our family dinners? Dad treated him like a son. It’s fucked that this is where we ended up.”

I shrug. I’ve never been more grateful for the chance to discuss Jeremy Fleming’s many flaws. “Dad saw potential in him. As a surgeon and as a person. He wouldn’t have mentored Jeremy if he didn’t believe in him.”

“People change,” mutters Way. “Usually for the worse.”

I decide to leave the pill where it fell. I’ll get a new one later. “Luka should be down soon,” I say. “He was brushing his teeth when I came downstairs.”

Waylen nods. “What are you planning to do today?”

Relive every moment of last night, probably.

“Haven’t decided yet.”

“Liar. You’re going to the hospital to check on your patients, aren’t you?”

I cringe, red-faced and guilty. “Maybe. Just to check in. That’s not against the rules.”

“I’m not gonna bother to tell you not to do it, because I know you won’t listen,” he says, eyeing me over the rim of his mug. “But just… Be careful, okay? Don’t let Jeremy catch you.”

“That hospital was my second home growing up. If I don’t want to be seen, I won’t be.”

“V?”

I shove the pharmacy bag deeper into my purse as Charity approaches in her EMT uniform. “Hey, Char. Just getting off shift?”

“Brought in a patient,” she replies. “I asked around for you, but the nurses said you weren’t working today.”

It takes me just a minute to explain all the details about Jeremy’s latest power play. By the time I’m done, she’s as furious as Waylen was.

“What a piece of shit. You should sue him.”

“For what?”

“Emotional distress, for starters.” She points to the pharmacy sign behind me. “Why else would you need a pharmacy first thing in the morning? Loading up on antidepressants?”

“I just needed?—”

Before I can finish, she grabs the paper pharmacy bag poking out of my purse.

“Charity! That’s private.”

Her eyes widen as she pulls out a pink pack of birth control pills. Thankfully, she hasn’t noticed the Plan B pill, which has probably sunk to the bottom of my bag. But this isn’t much better.

“You’re going on the pill?” she asks, surprised.

I snatch it back and shove it deep into the nether regions of my purse. “None of your business.”

“Hello? We’re best friends? Soulmates? Everything you do is my business?

Your life is mine to peruse as I please?

” She follows me when I try to retreat down the hall and into the depths of the hospital.

“Speaking of pleases, please tell me you’ve finally ended your dry spell.

And pretty please tell me it was with?—”

I stop walking so abruptly she crashes into me. “Fine. Yes. It was with Kovan. No, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just sex.”

She grabs my arm. “How was it?”

“You said you wouldn’t ask for details.”

“I lied.”

“This isn’t the time or?—”

“Oh, shit.” Charity’s face changes, all playfulness gone.

I turn to see Jeremy walking toward us. He hasn’t noticed me yet, so I could still escape. But my pride won’t let me run.

When he looks up and sees me, I expect anger. The usual scowl and red face that means I’ve crossed another line.

Instead, he goes pale. Almost green, like he’s about to throw up.

“Jeremy.” I keep my voice neutral. “I’m just checking on my patients. I won’t?—”

“Dr. Fairfax. About yesterday…” His eyes dart around like he thinks we’re being watched. “Forget what I said, okay?”

My mouth falls open. I look around, too, though I have no idea what I’m supposed to find. “Uh… excuse me?”

He glances at Charity, who’s doing a terrible job of pretending to study the surgery schedule board fixed to the wall. “I had a bad day. I misspoke.” He won’t meet my eyes. “There won’t be any changes to your hours or salary. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He walks away so fast he’s basically running.

“Did you hear that?” I stare after him.

“Holy shit,” mumbles Charity, every bit as confused as I am. “He totally caved.”

“But why? Unless…” A thought hits me. “Kovan said he would handle it. But he couldn’t have already?—”

“That’s so romantic! This is definitely not just casual fu?—”

BANG!

We both freeze, eyes locked on each other.

“Was that a?—?”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The screams confirm my worst fear. I grab Charity and pull her down as more shots ring out. My phone vibrates. Pavel’s name appears on the screen.

“Vesper, where are you?” he barks when I answer. “Are you safe?”

“I’m at the hospital?—”

“I know. We have someone watching you. Kovan’s at the hospital, too. Is he with you?”

I should’ve known. Where there are gunshots, there’s Kovan.

“The shooting?—”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Fuck!”

Pavel’s panic makes it real. Kovan is here. He came because of me. That’s why Jeremy backed down, the only possible explanation: Kovan threatened him.

Do these gunshots mean Jeremy is threatening him back?

“I have to go.” I grip Charity’s arm. “Stay here. Stay safe.”

Then, staying as low to the ground as I can, I start moving down the hall.

“Vesper!” she hisses after me. “What are you doing?”

It’s a good question. I don’t have an answer. I know this is stupid. I know it’s reckless. I know that, even if I reach him, there’s nothing I can do to help.

But it doesn’t matter. I have to get to him. I have to make sure he’s alive. Because if he’s not…

The fear gripping my chest feels exactly like the day we got Dad’s diagnosis.

He has to be okay.

He has to be okay.

He has to be okay.

The prayer repeats in my head as I push through the exit doors. I’m a woman of science. I don’t believe in God.

But for the first time in my life, I find myself praying anyway.