Page 86 of Scarred Bratva King

“Drop it,” I command, my voice cold and steady.

Vito hesitates, his eyes darting between me and Dmitri. “We can make a deal!” he pleads, his voice cracking. “You don’t have to do this!”

I limp closer, my gun trained on him. “The time for deals ended the moment you let your nephew come after my wife.”

Vito’s face twists in desperation as he lowers his weapon. “Please, I’ll give you everything. All the money I have, just let me go.”

I fire. The shot is deafening in the confined space. Vito crumples to the ground, blood pooling beneath him. I hit him again and then again until I’m out of rounds.

Dmitri claps a heavy hand on my shoulder, the gesture jarring against the weight pressing down on my chest.

“It’s done,” he says, his voice a mix of relief and pride. “Vito’s finished. You’ve secured the Bratva’s future, Maxim. No one will dare cross us again. Good work.”

I glance at him, his face smeared with dirt and streaked with sweat. There’s satisfaction in his eyes, a sense of accomplishment.

I nod, because that’s what’s expected, but the words catch in my throat. Victory should taste sweet, but all I feel is the bitterness of absence.

My gaze sweeps the scene: Bratva men moving like shadows to secure the area, the distant wail of sirens that will never reach us. I should feel something—pride, triumph, relief. But all I can think about is Veronica.

Her face floods my mind, unbidden and relentless. The way she smiles when she’s pretending not to care, the fire in her eyes when she’s angry, the quiet vulnerability she lets slip when she thinks no one is looking. And now, the child growing inside her. My child.

I exhale sharply but the hollow ache in my chest only deepens. Vito Lombardi is dead. The war is over. I’ve achieved everything I set out to do. So why does it feel like I’ve lost the only thing that matters?

40

VERONICA

The next day…

The sound of the bell above the door startles me. I turn, and Elena walks into the store, holding a thick envelope. She looks at me and I know instantly this isn’t a casual visit.

“It’s from Maxim,” she says, placing the envelope on the counter. “Thought I’d bring it in person, get some more Austen while I’m here.”

“You’ve already got the complete works.”

“I like different covers for different moods. Sue me.”

The envelope is heavy. I open it, pulling out a folded piece of paper and stacks of cash. The sight of all that money makes my stomach churn, but it’s the letter that pins me in place.

Elena steps back, giving me space, but her watchful eyes stay on me as I unfold the letter. Maxim’s handwriting is sharp and angular, just like him.

Veronica,

I understand now why you didn’t tell me about the baby. Vito is dead and I enjoyed killing him.

The money is for the baby. Use it for whatever you need. I will stay away but I still need your signature to process the divorce.

- Maxim

The words blur on the page as tears fill my eyes. I read between the lines. He’s a man who’s given up on the idea that he could ever be anything other than what his world has made him into.

I press the letter to my chest, the ache in my heart threatening to spill over. “How can he see himself like this?” I say, passing the letter to Elena. “How can he be so kind and so cold at the same time?”

Elena steps closer, resting a hand on my arm. “Because that’s what they’re like. Dmitri and Maxim are cut from the same cloth.

“Both spent their lives building the walls they needed to survive. But you’ve already torn some of Maxim’s down, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.”

I shake my head, my fingers tightening around the letter. “How can I bring a child up with a man like him?”

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