Page 45 of Bratva's Vow
That made me stop cold.
Fuck.
That sounded… extreme.
I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and rocked back on my heels. “All right, you’ve got ten minutes or less. If Maxim realizes I’m gone again?—”
Bradley spun around, his mouth curling in disgust. “Jesus, listen to yourself, Wren. Do you even hear how pathetic you sound?”
I blinked. “What?”
“You sound like a prisoner begging to get back to your cellbefore the guard notices you’re gone. Do you even realize how twisted that is?”
Anger sparked. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He took a step closer, voice lowering but sharper now. “Don’t I? I tried to warn you in the beginning. I tried to be friendly, but you pulled away. Then, surprise surprise, I start getting shipped off on bullshit assignments to keep me out of the office. That’s not paranoia, Wren. That’s control. That’s him isolating you.”
I didn’t want to hear this. I really, really didn’t want to hear this.
“So what?” I shot back. “You’re risking your job to tell me all this out of the goodness of your heart?”
Bradley’s smile was humorless. “I’m not going to have this job for much longer anyway. Either Maxim will get tired of me or… someone else will make sure I disappear. That’s how it works in his world.”
His world. That made me pause.
“What are you talking about?” I asked warily.
“Wren,” Bradley said slowly. “Do you know what the Bratva is?”
I stared. “Yeah. Isn’t that like… the Russian mob or something?”
“Exactly.” He took another step toward me, and this time his voice was urgent. “And they own this fucking city. Politicians, cops, judges. They don’t just exist. They run things. And you,”—he pointed at me, jabbing the air—“you’ve been sleeping with the man at the very top.”
I opened my mouth, then shut it again.
“No,” I said finally, my voice shaking. “No. That’s insane. Maxim isn’t—he’s not?—”
“Pakhan, Wren. That’s what they call the boss. The head of everything. The one whose word is law. That’s him. Yoursweet, overprotective boyfriend? He’s the fucking Pakhan.” He inhaled deeply, his face getting redder with each sentence. “He came to this country with nothing and is now on top of the food chain. Do you think he got there with clean hands? He worked his way up from being a thief. How many men do you think he killed to be on top, Wren? And that’s why people are after him. Not because he’s rich. Not because of his legitimate businesses. Because a man like Maxim has made enemies to get to where he is. Enemies who would burn this city to the ground to kill him, and now you’re exactly the leverage they can use.”
I felt cold all over. My mind flashed back to the night I’d stayed late at the office. The night I’d accidentally walked in on Maxim surrounded by hard-eyed men speaking rapid Russian. The ones who’d asked if I was soft like a bitch in bed.
“No,” I whispered again, but it sounded weaker now because Bradley’s words made sense. They filled in the gaps neatly. The things I never quite understood about Maxim.
Bradley’s expression softened. “Wren… the reason he keeps you close? The reason he always has people following you? It’s not just jealousy. It’s because the second his enemies know you exist, you’re a target. You’re his biggest vulnerability. He’s putting your life in danger and not telling you the truth about it because he’s afraid you’ll leave him.”
The rooftop door banged open behind us, loud and violent.
I flinched, whirling around.
Maxim stood there, his face murderous, eyes burning hotter than I’d ever seen.
He looked at Bradley like he already had his hands wrapped around his throat.
“Do you know what happens to men who can’t keep their mouths shut?” Maxim growled, stepping forward like a storm about to unleash its wrath.
Bradley grabbed me—fingers tight like iron around my wrist and then my neck—and yanked me toward the edge so fast I stumbled.
“Don’t take another step, Maxim,” Bradley growled like a wild animal backed into a corner. “Or I swear to god I’ll pull him over with me.”
