Page 142 of Bratva's Vow
The room buzzed with low chatter as students packed uptheir bags and laptops. I slung mine over my shoulder and slipped out the door quickly, already drafting a text to Maxim.
Me:
Why didn’t you tell me about the field trip to your new high-rise?
Maxim didn’t reply, and I huffed a breath. He probably had a meeting. I should probably ask him to send me his weekly itinerary. After all, he kept track of my classes.
“Dude. Morozov?”
The voice came from my left. Jakoby, tall, blond, and always dressed like he was shooting for a Vogue cover. He slung an arm around my shoulder before I could dodge. “Isn’t that where you interned over summer, Wren?”
I slid out from under his arm as casually as possible, making a big deal out of fixing an imaginary problem with the strap of my bag. “Yeah.”
“Who did you have to sleep with to get an internship there?” Marcus opened a granola bar. “I’m not even gay, and I would have sold my ass so fast just to get an interview.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t have to do anything that drastic. Just stole his coffee, and before I knew it, I was hired.”
They laughed, obviously thinking I was joking. If only they knew the whole truth. What would they think?
“What was it like, then?” Jakoby asked as we walked along the corridor. “Did they make you carry, like, diamond-encrusted blueprints or something?”
“Totally,” I deadpanned. “Every floor tile was carved from unicorn bone.”
Marcus snorted. “Come on, be serious. You ever actually meet the big guy? Or did they keep you chained to the copier?”
I grinned. “Depended on the day. Some days it was emailsand coffee runs. Other days, I got to sit in on meetings with Mr. Morozov. Mostly admin stuff.”
“Bro, you so didn’t make it up to the executive floor.” Marcus nudged me with his elbow. “Bet you weren’t even allowed near the espresso machine with the golden spout.”
I laughed alongside them. They were cool guys I hung out with on campus, but our relationship didn’t go beyond that. Friends on campus, I called them. Whenever we had the same classes, we ensured we always teamed up for projects, but I used to work so many hours after classes that they stopped asking me to go for drinks and to parties with them because I never had the time.
I brushed a lock of hair that had fallen over my forehead. “Well, I should get?—”
“Holy shit.” Jakoby grabbed my left hand. “Dude, are you like engaged or something?”
I looked down at the ring on my finger and froze.
Damn it.
I always took it off before class to avoid questions. Every morning, without fail. But this morning, I’d overslept. Hadn’t even gotten time to eat on the way out. Pilar had looked so disappointed that I had to turn down her breakfast. Hopefully, she didn’t hold it against me, but I felt less sickly if I didn’t eat much. “What? No.” My voice came out an octave too high, and I snatched my hand away. “It’s not. It’s just a ring.”
Marcus leaned in with a grin. “That isnotjust a ring. That’s a whole asspromise of foreveron your hand, my guy.”
“It’s really not.”
“Ah fuck off. Don’t try hiding it.” Marcus slapped me on the back of my head. “I see how it is. You’re driving that sweet car, and now look at the size of that ring. Must have sucked off a rich bloke over the summer working at Morozov’s. Come on, you can tell us. We won’t judge.”
“I’m not having this conversation with you guys. I never hid that I was gay, so why act shocked?”
“No, we know, we know,” Jakoby said quickly. “We just didn’t know you wereclaimedor that you had it in you to go after some rich dude.”
“I’m not—he’s not?—”
Marcus made a dramatic show of placing his hands on his hips. “Wren Holloway. Intern by day, kept man by night.”
I groaned and buried my face in my hands. “Can wenotdo this right now?”
They all laughed—teasing but good-natured. No malice.
