Page 150 of Bratva's Vow
His jaw was clenched, his entire posture taut. And it wasn’t because he could tell at this distance that I wasn’t feeling any better.
It was Jakoby.
Jakoby’s arm was still slung casually around my shoulders.
I stepped away quickly, mouth suddenly dry, trying to pretend it hadn’t happened. I straightened my spine, forced a casual expression onto my face. Maxim stalked toward our group with slow, deliberate steps.
“Everyone, look who decided to pop by,” the site managersaid. “This is Maxim Morozov, the man behind the vision. He’s agreed to answer a few questions and give you a quick overview.”
Maxim's voice cut through the hum of student chatter like a blade. Smooth. Measured. “Pleasure to meet you all. I hope you find the project enlightening. Do you have any questions?”
Marcus threw up his hand immediately, the way a child might when he knew he wasn’t supposed to.
Maxim’s gaze slid to him with polite disinterest.
Marcus grinned. “My buddy here worked with Morozov over the summer.” He threw an arm around me. Oh boy. “Do you remember him?”
My heart kicked. Not just from the contact but also from the shift in Maxim. A flicker in the tight line of his mouth. His eyes, even hidden behind sunglasses, seemed to narrow.
He glanced at me, just for a moment, and my knees went weak.
He was looking at me like he didn’t know whether to kill or kiss me.
Professor Dyer cleared his throat sharply. “Mr. Stein, if you have a relevant question, ask it. Otherwise, let’s keep things professional.”
Marcus dropped his hand but chuckled under his breath, not reading the room at all.
Maxim’s gaze lingered on me a beat longer. Then he smiled, cold and perfectly measured, and continued answering the next question. Something about sustainability in luxury developments. He hit every point like a man reading off a script he’d written himself. Calm. Charismatic. Utterly untouchable.
But I felt him watching me, even when he wasn’t looking.
I couldn’t breathe right. My lungs felt like paper. I leaned on the back of Jakoby’s shoulder to steady myself while thegroup listened. I tried to focus on the words, but they blurred together.
Maxim wrapped up his responses and gestured to a structure on the far end of the site.
“If you’ll follow Hank, he’ll show you the staging area for the second tower. It’s still in the excavation phase, but you’ll be able to see the preliminary planning at work.”
The group stirred into motion, moving to go with Hank.
But Maxim didn’t follow.
He came toward me instead. Past Marcus. Past Jakoby.
And stopped in front of me, his expression unreadable.
Jakoby smiled, sticking out his hand again like he hadn’t already shaken it. “Thanks again for?—”
“I believe we’ve met,” Maxim cut in coolly. Then his eyes slid to me. “Mr. Holloway.”
He took my hand. My left hand, of all things. Brushed his thumb across my ring finger. “That’s a nice engagement ring you’re wearing. Must be one lucky man.”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Pain lanced through my gut like a knife. Before I could stop myself, I doubled over with a cry, my hands flying to my stomach.
It felt like my insides were tearing.
The heat, the nausea, the trembling. It all swelled into a hurricane that sucked the air right out of my lungs.
“Wren?” Maxim’s voice cracked like thunder.
