Page 45 of Scarred Bratva King

I clench my fists, resisting the urge to step out and end this conversation myself.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” she replies, her voice firm. “I love Maxim. That’s what matters to him and me.”

She sounds like she means it. My heart leaps. The pause that follows is heavy. I can hear my father’s sharp gaze cutting into her.

“Love,” he repeats, his voice dripping with doubt. “You barely know him. What could you possibly love about a coldhearted monster like my son?”

Thanks, Dad.

There’s a beat of silence, and then her voice softens. “I love the way he protects me. He makes me feel safe.”

He chuckles darkly. “You’re a convincing actress. I’ll give you that.”

“I’m not acting,” she shoots back, the fire in her tone surprising even me.

“I think you are,” he says. “And I’m going to make you an offer. I don’t want my boy married to a woman only out for herself. Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it. Name your price.”

I hear the faint rustle of paper—cash, no doubt. He’s playing his favorite game: buy loyalty or expose the lack of it.

“I don’t want your money,” she says, her voice shaking slightly but still resolute. “I’m not here for that. I’m here because I love Maxim.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Even my father, the most calculating man I know, seems momentarily at a loss.

“I see,” he finally says, his tone unreadable. “I hope, for your sake, that’s true. Because if I find out you’re lying…”

“You won’t,” she interrupts, her confidence returning. “Because I’m not.”

There’s a pause, and then he sighs. “Time will tell.” His footsteps echo as he turns and walks away.

I wait until he’s gone before stepping out from the shadows. Veronica is still seated, her shoulders tense, her expression a mix of defiance and unease.

“You did well,” I say, my voice breaking the quiet.

She startles slightly, her head snapping toward me. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” I admit, stepping closer. “To hear you handle my father better than most men I know.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing. “I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“No,” I agree, a smirk tugging at my lips. “But he respects you now. That’s more important.”

She looks at me, her eyes searching mine. “Were you really hiding to eavesdrop, or are you just that paranoid?”

I shrug. “Why not both?”

Her lips twitch into a small smile, and for a moment, I forget the world outside this room. The woman in front of me, fierce and loyal, just might be my undoing.

“I better go see what Dmitri wants,” I say, staring at her soft lips, wanting nothing more than to stay with her.

“Hurry back,” she replies, kissing me softly. “Could do with some help getting this costume off.”

“Maybe I’ll stay and help.” I hook the shoulder strap into my fingers, easing it slowly down.

“Maxim,” an unwelcome voice rumbles behind me. I spin around in time to find Dmitri glaring at the two of us. “I sent for you. Where the hell have you been?”

“I was busy. What’s so damned important?”

“Marco’s been spotted. We need to move fast. Get changed.”

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