Page 56 of Bratva's Vow
“Not yet,” Sergei said. “We’re watching his known associates. His wife’s under surveillance, but he hasn’t contacted her. His usual haunts are empty.”
“Which means that he’s smarter than we gave him credit for.”
Silence. Heavy. Loaded.
I clenched my jaw so tightly my teeth ached.
I wanted blood.
I wanted his head cracked against pavement, his body dumped in the same hole his hired killer was rotting in.
But most of all…
I wanted Wren safe.
Not just locked in his room. Not just under guard.
Safe.
Safe from men like Bradley, who thought they could use him to hurt me. If he’d cared an ounce about Wren, he wouldn’t have threatened to throw him off the roof. He’d wanted revenge, and he’d used Wren to strike one last blow before his death.
“You have one week,” I said at last, cutting through the silence like a blade. “Find him. I don’t care how. I don’t care what strings you have to pull or who you piss off. I want the chief’s face in front of me or in a casket. Otherwise, you’ll leave me with no choice but to get the brigadiers involved.”
Which was the last thing I wanted to do.
The fewer eyes on me, the better. Even among our own.
The brigadiers answered to me but not directly. That was the point of me building what seemed to be a legitimate empire on the front. It gave me contacts with people whowould otherwise not be willing to shake hands. Most Pakhans liked to be seen, to flaunt their power. I’d built power in silence, kept my hands clean in public, and let Archie and Sergei be my mouthpieces when needed.
Several brigadiers might have fallen since I rose to power, but even if I was a suspect, the Feds had nothing that stuck. No photos. No names. No bodies that could point back to me with more than speculation.
And that was how I kept it.
The Bratva thrived because I did. Because I stayed off the radar. Because the empire looked fractured from the outside, a scattered beast with no head, when in truth, every move flowed through my hand.
But if it meant keeping Wren safe, I’d tear the mask off myself. I’d become that man who’d killed ruthlessly to be at the top. And all because my father had thought I was useless in the brotherhood because I enjoyed fucking another man.
I straightened, pacing a slow line behind my chair. The anger simmered beneath my skin, but so did something colder—strategy.
“We’ll also be beefing up security,” I said, voice low and deliberate. “I can’t hold Wren forever. In less than a week, he’ll have to return to campus for his classes. I want the chief to be found before then.”
Archie frowned. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. You think I don’t know how this works? You think I don’t know he’ll claw his way out of that house the second I loosen my grip?” My mouth twisted. “But I also know it’ll only take one person—one—to grab him when I’m not watching. So when he goes back to campus, he goes with someone at all times. No exceptions, and if you lose him, it’ll be your head on the chopping block.”
The room went deathly quiet.
Sergei shifted his weight, folding his arms tighter acrosshis chest. “This isn’t a good idea, Maxim. He might not have turned you in, but he despises you.”
That word “despises” landed like a sucker punch to the gut.
Despises.
I clenched my jaw until something in my temple throbbed, but I didn’t let them see how much it hurt me.
“He’ll come around,” I said stiffly, though I didn’t sound entirely convinced. “I need to give him time.”
Archie raised his eyebrows. “And what if he doesn’t? Do you really think he’ll forget everything?”
