Page 127 of Bratva's Vow
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
I curled my fingers around the hem of my hoodie.
“How did Vova really die?”
The silence came back, heavier this time.
Nik didn’t look at me. Through his reflection in the window, I watched him tighten his hands on the steering wheel, knuckles pale against the leather. I waited. When he didn’t answer, I turned my head toward him.
“Please,” I whispered. “Maxim won’t tell me the full truth. I need to know.”
Nik exhaled sharply, like the air was being dragged out of him. “Wren…”
“I know it’s bad,” I said. “But I want the truth. Not the version people are wrapping up to protect me. I don’t need protection. Not from this. I’ve already chosen to be with Maxim. Shouldn’t that count for something?”
“He was beaten,” Nik said quietly. “With a sledgehammer.”
The air vanished from my lungs.
For a split second, the car spun. Or maybe that was just me.
My mind flashed to Maxim’s office. The sledgehammer. The one I’d seen resting against the wall. Bloodstained. Had Vova been in the hospital since that time?
“Oh my god, stop the car,” I shouted, bile rushing into my mouth.
Nik swerved off to the side, screeching to a halt on the side of the road. The car had barely come to a stop when I flung open the door and ran. I retched onto the gravel, muscles convulsing. Since I hadn’t eaten, most of it was dry heaving and the juice Pilar had made me. So much for keeping hydrated when I brought it all back up.
Dry heaves and painful spasms twisted my insides like they were wrung through a meat grinder.
Nik pressed a bottle of water into my hand. “Here. Sip slow. I think I should take you to the hospital.”
I shook my head, eyes watering, throat raw, shame curling deep in my chest. “I’m fine,” I croaked. “It’s not… it’s not the sickness. It’s the thoughts of what he must have gone through. That’s a horrific way to die. Poor Vova.”
Nik didn’t say anything. He handed me tissues, let me stand there breathing through the storm.
I wiped my mouth, straightened, and turned back to him.
“Nik?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you teach me how to shoot?”
He lifted his brows. “What?”
I held his gaze. “I’m serious. Teach me. Please.” The more I said it, the more I believed it was the right thing. I’d been thinking about it since learning of Vova’s death.
“You should talk to Maxim?—”
“He won’t let me,” I said quickly. “You know what he’s like. He’ll say he’ll protect me. But… what if I’m alone someday? What if one day, it boils down to me protecting us, but I don’t know how?”
Nik looked torn, lips pressed into a tight line.
“I’m not trying to join the Bratva,” I said with a dry chuckle. “I want to know. Just in case.”
