Page 71 of Toxic Temptation (Krayev Bratva #1)

VESPER

I don’t have a good reason for being here.

Well, I do. I miss him. But that’s not the kind of reason I can say out loud without sounding pathetic.

I’ve been standing outside Kovan’s home office for five minutes, trying to come up with something better.

I wanted to discuss Luka’s custody hearing.

No, too formal. I was in the neighborhood.

Complete lie—his house is forty minutes from the hospital.

I brought you dinner. Except I’m empty-handed, not a burrito or a sushi roll in sight.

The truth is simpler and more humiliating: I just wanted to see his face. I wanted to hear his voice say my name. I wanted to exist in the same space as him for a few minutes before I went home to my empty apartment and pretended I wasn’t counting the hours until I could see him again.

God, I’m a mess.

Such a mess, in fact, that against my better judgment, I open the door and slip inside his office. I sneak around his desk and sink into his chair and, “Ahhh,” I say out loud, the latest and greatest of my embarrassing decisions since I came by here looking for him.

It’s just that it smells like him. It’s cool to the touch, so he must’ve been gone for a while, but I could swear the chair still has some memory of his body in it.

It folds around me, the scent and the impression of his shape—not quite as good as an actual hug from him, but maybe the next best thing.

I close my eyes and luxuriate in it. I know I’m beyond help, beyond saving. That much has been obvious for a while now, even if I’m the last one to realize it.

But for now, with no one watching, I let myself be goofy. I let myself be in love. I let myself just sit in Kovan’s chair and pretend he’s here with me.

And as long as I’m doing that, some of the ache of missing him goes away.

Eventually, though, the shame of my silliness overcomes the warmth. I open my eyes—and I notice something I didn’t realize at first.

His laptop is open.

Not just open, but unlocked. The screen is lit, and on that screen in undeniable font is…

Shana Reed.

I’m not trying to snoop. I’m really not. But the moment I read that name, my heart starts fluttering in my ribs like a trapped bird.

Why is Shana’s name on Kovan’s computer?

I cock my ear toward the door. The office is empty. No footsteps in the hallway. No voices from the reception area. I’m all alone.

I lean forward and start scrolling.

The information under Shana’s name starts innocently enough—name, age, medical credentials, board position. Basic professional details you could find on LinkedIn or the hospital directory.

But then it gets personal. Her husband’s full name and employer. Their children’s names and ages. Home address. Social security numbers.

And… bank account information.

I let out a stunned breath when I see the balance in Shana’s personal account. She could buy a small country with that kind of cash. Maybe a large country.

As a board member and practicing physician, Shana makes good money. Excellent money, even. But not this money. Not enough to justify the obscene balance staring back at me from the screen.

I know I should stop looking. Close the laptop. Pretend I never saw any of this.

Instead, I scroll down.

The deeper I dig, the worse it gets. Shana hasn’t just been skimming from the hospital budget—she’s been hemorrhaging money from it. But according to these records, the hospital doesn’t generate enough profit to account for what she’s been taking.

Which means the money is coming from somewhere else.

At the bottom of the page, I find a line item that makes me shiver.

Profit X - $3.4M

Three point four million dollars in profit. From what? What the hell is “Profit X”?

“Vesper.”

My hand freezes over the trackpad. I don’t look up. I don’t need to see his face to know I’ve been caught red-handed.

“Hi,” I say weakly. “I was just… admiring your desktop wallpaper.”

“You’re snooping.”

It’s not a question. Kovan’s voice is calm, almost amused, which somehow makes this worse. I’d prefer anger. Anger is something I could handle.

“I didn’t mean to.” I finally look over the top of the screen to face him where he’s standing in the doorway. “I saw Shana’s name and?—”

“And you couldn’t help yourself.” He crosses the room slowly. When he reaches the desk, he places one hand on the back of the chair and leans over my shoulder to look at the screen. “Curiosity killed the cat, Dr. Fairfax.”

The heat from his body warms my back. I can smell his cologne. Under normal circumstances, having him this close would make me forget my own name.

These are not normal circumstances.

“I shouldn’t have looked,” I admit. “But now that I have, I need to know what this means.”

To my surprise, he chuckles. “Of course you do.” He straightens up and comes to sit on the edge of the desk, facing me directly. “What do you want to know?”

“You’re investigating Shana?”

“I’m investigating all the board members. Due diligence.”

I gesture at the ridiculous numbers on the screen. “Do they all have bank accounts like this?”

“Jeremy and Shana are the big earners. The others take smaller cuts.”

“How is the hospital still operating? How are we not completely bankrupt?” I can hear my voice rising like a boiling kettle, but I can’t stop it. “Where is this money coming from?”

Kovan’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. A muscle ticks near his temple.

“Kovan…” I scoot forward in the chair. “What aren’t you telling me?”

His green eyes study my face for a long moment.

When he speaks, his voice is carefully neutral.

“There’s more than one way to make money in a hospital, Vesper.

Saving lives is noble work, but it’s not the most profitable line of business.

If you’re willing to abandon your ethics, there are… other ways.”

The bottom drops out of my stomach. “What does that mean?”

“It means your corrupt board members have been very creative about generating revenue streams.”

“Kovan, that’s not an answer.” I stand up, moving closer to him. “Tell me what they’re doing. In plain English, not corporate mambo-jumbo.”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do. I absolutely do.” My hands curl into fists at my sides. “These people have been stealing from sick children. They’ve been putting profits over patients while I’ve been begging for basic equipment. They need to be held accountable.”

He nods, a grim motion that sends a graveyard chill racing through me. “And they will be.”

“How?”

Instead of answering, he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger against my cheek. “Can’t you trust me to handle this?”

“I do trust you.” I catch his hand, pressing his palm flat against my face. “But I also want to help. I need to help. These bastards have gotten away with this for too long, and I’m tired of being powerless.”

His eyes darken. “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

“Then explain it to me.” I stand and step even closer, until I’m standing between his knees, hands flat on his chest. “I’m not some delicate flower who needs protecting from ugly truths, Kovan. I’m a surgeon. I’ve seen plenty of ugly.”

“Not like this.”

“Kovan.” I close my eyes and focus on the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my palms. “I meant what I said at the gala. I want all of you. That includes the parts you think will scare me away.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. The office is so quiet that I can hear the air conditioning cycling on and off.

Finally, he covers my hands with his. “If I tell you, there’s no going back. You can’t unknow what I’m about to say.”

“I don’t want to go back.”

He studies my face again, searching for something. Whatever he finds there must satisfy him, because he nods slowly.

“Your board isn’t just embezzling hospital funds,” he says quietly. “They’re facilitating the sale of harvested organs on the black market.”

I thought I was ready for what he was going to say. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Hearing the words is like sticking a fork in a socket—as soon as they process in my head, I’m rocked by an invisible force. Not quite painful, but I actually take a step backward.

“That’s…” I shake my head. “That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” He furrows his brow. “Think about it, Vesper. Haven’t you seen shady shit? Patients who die unexpectedly. Autopsies that get waived. Families who are pressured to make quick burial arrangements. You’ve seen all of that, haven’t you?”

My mind starts racing, cataloging every suspicious death I’ve witnessed over the past year. All the tiny red flags. One by one, they’re forgettable. But when you knit them together, you see that the flag isn’t just big—it’s huge, tidal.

An ocean of red.

Of blood.

Of misery.

Of death.

“Oh, God.” I sink back into the chair, no longer trusting my legs to hold me up. “How long?”

“At least three years. Possibly longer.”

“How many victims?”

“We’re still determining that.”

The room starts to spin. I press my fists against my temples, trying to make sense of what he’s telling me. “I need to report this. The police, the medical board?—”

“No.”

When I look up, Kovan’s face has hardened into something I’ve never seen before. It frightens me. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean that this goes deeper than a few corrupt board members. The people involved have connections, protection. If you go to the authorities now, the ones truly responsible will disappear. The evidence will vanish. And you’ll be labeled a disgruntled employee making wild accusations.”

“So we do… nothing?”

He shakes his head. “We do something. Just not through official channels.”

“You mean you’re going to handle this your way.”

Kovan nods, even grimmer than before. “Yes.”

“Soon.”

“Not just soon. Tonight .”

I think about Shana Reed, with her fake smile and patronizing voice.

I think about Jeremy Fleming, who’s spent months making my life hell while profiting from death.

I think about every patient I couldn’t save because we didn’t have the right equipment, while these monsters hoarded money made from selling human organs.

And it all leads me to the next inevitable decision point.

“I want to come with you.”

Kovan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Absolutely not.”

“You said I could trust you to handle this. Well, I’m asking you to trust me to help.”

“Vesper—”

“I don’t want to hold your gun or break anyone’s kneecaps.” I stand up again, squaring my shoulders. “But I know these people. I know how they think, how they operate. You need someone who can talk to them in a way they understand.”

“What I need is for you to stay safe.”

“What I need is to look Jeremy and Shana in the eye when they realize their world is falling apart,” I say. “They’ve been playing God with human lives. They’ve been getting rich while children die. I want to watch them burn.”

Something changes in Kovan’s eyes. The protective concern is still there, but with it is something that looks almost like… pride?

He sighs, and that’s when I know I’ve almost won. “You might see a side of me tonight that you don’t like,” he warns. “I might have to do things that?—”

“I can handle it.”

“Can you?” He slides off the desk and moves closer, until we’re nearly touching, him towering over me, dark and beautiful. “This isn’t some TV show, Vesper. This is real. And it’s going to get nasty.”

I tip my chin up to meet his gaze directly.

“‘Nasty’ is what I do for a living, Kovan. I’ve seen people die.

I’ve held their hands while they took their last breath.

I’ve told parents their children aren’t coming home.

” My voice drops to barely above a whisper.

“You think watching corrupt board members get what’s coming to them is going to break me? ”

His hands float up to frame my face. “As long as you’re with me, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me from them.” I lean into his touch. “I need you to let me help you destroy them.”

For a long moment, he just looks at me. Then, slowly, his mouth curves into a wicked smile. “How can I say no to that?”