Page 77 of Toxic Temptation (Krayev Bratva #1)
VESPER
“Cheer up, V!” Charity waves her mimosa at me like it’s a magic wand that’ll somehow improve my sour mood. “Look at us—having brunch at a cute café, acting like normal people with normal lives for once. It’s charming. You should smile.”
I contort my mouth into something resembling a queasy, seasick half-grin. “Better?”
“Oh, so, so much.” She rolls her eyes. “Seriously, though, what’s eating you today? Still obsessing over Luka’s psycho stepfather having secret meetings with your nightmare boss?”
“That was yesterday’s crisis.” I push my untouched eggs Benedict around my plate. “Today, I’m waiting for a friend who’s ghosting me.”
“Ha! You don’t have friends. Except me, obviously. And I’m here. Obviously.”
“I’m talking about Aunt Flo.”
Charity’s fork freezes halfway to her mouth. “Oh. Oh, shit. How late are we talking?”
“A week,” I mumble down into my eggs. “But I’m probably stressing over nothing. I’m on the pill, for goodness’ sake. My cycle’s always been weird anyway.”
“Hypothetically speaking…” Charity leans forward, flashing that mischievous gleam in her eyes that signals trouble. “How would you feel if you were actually pregnant?”
“Pissed.”
“Really?”
I hide behind my water glass, but Charity sees everything. She always has.
“I don’t know,” I admit finally. “I never thought I’d have kids. Never really wanted them.”
“Before now, you mean.”
“Don’t.”
“It’s okay to change your mind, V. It’s okay to want something normal for once. Especially with a man you love.”
“He’s not the marrying kind, Char.”
“Neither were you. Before him. And now… well, who knows?”
I fidget with the salt and pepper shakers. They’re shaped like yin and yang symbols—two curved halves that fit together perfectly despite being completely different. I used to think that’s what Kovan and I were. Now, I’m not sure if that was just wishful thinking.
Or maybe I’m just finding overwrought metaphors in the table settings.
“Even if he wanted marriage, he doesn’t want kids. He made that crystal clear.”
Charity waves dismissively. “Sometimes, men need us to show them what they really want. You just look at him with Luka and, I dunno—it’s obvious.”
“What’s obvious?”
“That he’s already a dad. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
My phone starts vibrating on the table. I squint at it—and freeze. “Oh, God, it’s Luka’s school.” I answer before the second ring. “Hello?”
“Dr. Fairfax?” The receptionist sounds crisp, professional, but I could swear there’s a mild panic underneath that facade. “We tried reaching Mr. Krayev first, but you’re listed as the secondary emergency contact, so?—”
I cut her off. “Is Luka hurt?”
“There was an… incident. He’s not injured, but?—”
“What kind of incident?” I knock over my water glass as I’m standing up, but I couldn’t care less about the puddle spreading across our table.
“We’re not entirely sure. He won’t say much. But we found him in one of the lockers.”
“He was inside a locker?!”
“He’s asking for his uncle. And for you. It would be best if someone could come collect him.”
Charity starts to protest, to ask what’s happening. But I’m already gone.
I find Luka sitting in the principal’s waiting area, legs swinging because his feet barely touch the floor. He’s staring out the window at the manicured grounds—tennis courts, swimming pools, all the extravagant perks of life at a private school for the one percent.
He looks completely miserable.
“Luka?”
He turns, and the relief that consumes him makes me want to weep. “Vesper.” His whole body relaxes. “Can you take me home?”
I sit beside him, careful not to crowd him. “Of course. But can we talk first?”
His heel starts tapping against the chair leg. “I want to go home,” he repeats, smaller this time.
I brush my hand over his hair. “How did you end up stuck in that locker, sweetheart?”
He flinches like I’ve hit him. His hands twist together until his knuckles go white. “I didn’t get stuck. Someone pushed me in.”
Horror slides down my spine. “What?”
“There’s this group of boys.” He won’t look at me. “They don’t really like me.”
“They put you in the locker?”
“They said things first. Mean things. Then they shoved me in and held the door closed.”
“What kind of things?”
His voice drops to a whisper. “About my dead dad.”
Rage erupts behind my ribs, hot and violent. I want to find those little bastards and make them understand exactly what they’ve done and what the consequences will be. I want to call Kovan and let him handle this his way.
Instead of any of that, though, I kiss the top of Luka’s head. “Wait for me by the water fountain, okay? I need to talk to your principal.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Just have a conversation.” I keep my smile gentle even though my blood is boiling. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”
“Then we can go home?”
“Better than that. Science museum and ice cream in the park.”
His whole face lights up. “Really?”
“Really really.” I put my hand over my heart. “Go on. I’ll be right there.”
He grabs his backpack and hurries away, glancing over his shoulder like he’s expecting his tormentors to appear.
The moment he’s out of sight, I storm into the principal’s office.
Dean Kenneth Thomas is on the phone, eyebrows lifting in annoyance when he sees me. He holds up one finger to signal for me to wait.
I lean across his massive desk and smash End on his call.
His jaw drops. “Excuse me, Ms. Fairfax, but that was?—”
“It’s Dr. Fairfax,” I correct, my voice cold enough to freeze hell. “I’m here about Luka Krayev. The child who was trapped in a fucking locker while you people lost track of him. Remember?”
Thomas stands, smoothing his tie. “I spoke with the boy. He’s fine. It was just some roughhousing—boys will be boys, you understand.”
“Is that your professional opinion, Dean Thomas?”
“Children can be rough sometimes. I’ll speak to all the boys involved, make sure they understand?—”
“No. A lecture isn’t going to cut it. I want real consequences. Those children are bullies, and bullies need to learn that actions have repercussions.”
His face flushes red. “Dr. Fairfax, I hardly think?—”
“I think you’re afraid to punish the real perpetrators because their parents write big donation checks.
” I step closer and jab a finger at him.
“But here’s what you need to understand: All those wealthy parents combined couldn’t protect you from the kind of hell I’m prepared to unleash if this situation isn’t handled properly. ”
He clears his throat. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“One month suspension for every child involved. Community service on school grounds after hours. Written apologies to Luka from each of them. And if I hear about one more incident—even so much as a nasty sideways look in his direction—I’ll make sure this school’s reputation becomes my personal project. ”
“Anything else?”
“I’ll let you know if I think of something fitting.” I head for the door, then turn back. “Making fun of a child’s dead father isn’t ‘boys being boys,’ Dean Thomas. It’s abject cruelty. And if you can’t see the difference, maybe you shouldn’t be running a school.”
I slam the door hard enough to rattle the windows.
And then walk straight into a wall of muscle.
“Kovan!”
He’s standing there in his perfectly tailored suit, green eyes blazing with something between pride and desire. That slow, seductive smile spreads across his face.
“That was magnificent,” he murmurs.
I go beet red. “You heard all that?”
“Every beautiful, terrifying word.” His palm cups my cheek. “I couldn’t have done better myself.”
“I don’t even know what I said in there.” My hands are shaking with leftover adrenaline. “I was so angry that anyone would treat Luka that way?—”
He cuts me off with a kiss. Right here in the hallway of Luka’s expensive private school, Kovan kisses me like we’re alone in his bedroom.
When we break apart, I’m dizzy.
“What was that for?”
“For protecting him when I couldn’t be here. For fighting for him. For being exactly who he needs you to be.” His thumb traces my cheekbone. “You’re fierce when you’re angry, Miss—excuse me, Dr. Fairfax.”
I laugh, some of the tension finally leaving my shoulders. “Are you making fun of me?”
Kovan grins down. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”