Page 134 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

Was it really that stupid? Most of Cardona’s men had been looking for a tough girl full of spunk. Putting Zoya in pastel colors and making her look normal did more to protect her than her father ever could.

And now he’s dead.

Stepan sets a tray on the table. Tea. It smells like lavender.

“Pavel told you,” I whisper as he sets a cup in front of me. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Liya Frankovna.”

I bow my head gratefully at the formal address even though it’s not necessary. I don’t care about formal shit right now. I just care about Willow and Zoya getting out alive.

“Drink,” Stepan insists. “It’ll help.”

“I know. It’s just…”

I can hear Viktoria’s voice as clear as day.

Stop crying, krolik. Drink.

My heart aches. I lift the cup and take a sip.

It’s weird, but something settles inside me like I’ve honored some secret promise. When I set the teacup down, I stare into the cloudy liquid.

All I can do now is wait for Pavel to get back.

Thankfully, Stepan leaves me alone and joins the other brigadiers in the den. Every so often, Gennadiy pokes his head in to see if I need anything. He’s made me three sandwiches already today. I keep eating half of them. It’s all I can manage.

Call me crazy, but I can’t muster up an appetite right now. My husband is out there. I haven’t heard from him. I just want to know that he’s safe.

The front door opens. I bounce from my seat and fly into the foyer like my life depends on it. I grab Pavel’s hands before he has a chance to shut the door.

“What the hell is going on?” I drill him. “Did you find anything?”

He shakes his head and tugs me into the kitchen, where he sits with me at the table. “Have you eaten?”

“Sort of.”

“You need to eat, Liya.”

I shake my head. “No, we need toact.”

He sighs and then peers over my head. Without a word, Stepan walks up to the table.

“Any word on Resende?” Pavel asks.

Stepan nods. “He’s dead, Pavel Sergeyevich.”

I don’t have the energy to react. I’m so numb from all the recent turn of events that all I can do is hold my hand over my heart. Pavel doesn’t miss a beat. His hand flies to my shoulder.

This isn’t a particularly horrible loss. But it’s still weird. I only knew him vaguely when I was a kid. But still…another name added to that endlessly growing list.

I don’t know how to feel anymore.

“How?” Pavel asks.

Stepan glances at me and then at Pavel. Pavel nods.

“Slit throat,” Stepan reports. “Whatever he did is a secret between himself and God.”

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