Page 57 of Bratva's Vow
That was the question, wasn’t it?
If Wren didn’t come around… if he never forgave me. What then? I hadn’t let myself think that far. I couldn’t. He had to come around.
“I need one of you to get close to Bradley’s husband,” I said. “Tap his phone, install bugs in their home—subtle ones. I want to know if his husband knows anything. If Bradley ever spoke to him about his plans… or about the chief.”
“Risky,” Nik muttered but didn’t argue.
“I’ll do it,” Sergei said.
I rolled my neck. “Fine. I’ll leave Sergei to discuss the new security measures and how we’re going to find Stone.”
I should have probably stayed behind to listen to the new plans Sergei had drafted to keep me and Wren safe, but I had no interest in talking about logistics or contingency plans anymore.
Not when all I saw was the image of Wren curled up on that fucking bed, crying like I’d carved out his heart.
When I reached my office, I slammed the door behind me and sat heavily in my chair. The monitor was still on. Still showing Wren.
He’d shifted.
He laid on his side now, back to the camera. His handcurled loosely around the edge of the blanket like a child clinging to a security object. He wasn’t crying this time.
He was just still. Empty.
That was worse.
I rubbed a hand across my mouth, forcing myself to face the ugly, vicious truth I couldn’t escape.
Sergei was right.
Wren despised me.
I sat there, staring at Wren’s still form on the screen, when the door flew open.
“Wait—” Archie’s voice, taut with disapproval, preceded Jess, who stormed into my office like a furious tornado in designer boots.
She looked wild. Eyes blazing, jaw tight, posture radiating violence. Archie was right behind her, tense, already lifting his phone to call security.
“Enough,” I snapped, cutting through the rising commotion. I pushed out of my chair. “Archie. Stand down. Jess is fine. She’s a friend.”
Archie eyed her, clearly skeptical, but I didn’t give him a choice. He left reluctantly, shooting Jess a narrow-eyed warning before shutting the door.
The second we were alone, Jess rounded on me, her body practically vibrating with fury.
“I want to see Wren,” she demanded. “I’m not asking.”
I stared her down, already tired. Not of her, but of all this. Of the fight. Of the pain. “All right. You can see him.”
She blinked. Clearly not expecting me to give in so easily. The hard edge in her shoulders faltered for a second, confusion slipping in. She’d come here ready for war.
“What?” she asked, her voice smaller now. “You’re letting me?”
I nodded slowly. “Right now… he hates me. You showing upwon’t make that worse. If anything… maybe you’ll be able to help me to reach him in a way I can’t.”
The fight in her eyes dimmed, replaced by suspicion. “Help you? Why the fuck would I help you? After everything you’ve done to him? You were supposed to tell him the truth, not let the shit hit the fan and leave a mess every fucking where.”
I braced my hands on my desk and leaned in. “I never lied to you, Jessica.”
She laughed bitterly. “Oh, fuck off. You omitted everything that mattered. That’s not any better.”
