Page 122 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

When I reach the door, I pause with my hand on the knob.

It’s not fair. She’s my wife, not my dumping ground. I have no right to burden her with my troubles, not when I’ve done enough in the last six hours.

Janine—and now Viktoria.

She’s had enough.

These emotional tolls could have been avoided if I didn’t force her to make a decision. I pushed her to it, and I blamed her for doing whatIwanted.

I did this.

My hands are stained.

I’ve doomed my wife and child.

Frowning, I flip around and head back downstairs.

The cup and bottle are waiting for me when I reach my desk. I pour another drink and sip it slowly, trying not to get too wasted.

Fuck it. Why not? I’ve already lost one day. Why not lose another?

I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose.

No…Liya would tell me that I shouldn’t be reckless. That I need to keep a clear head. I need to move forward.

Sharp’s death will ripple through the NYPD. While it will charge some people into action, it’ll wound Cardona for a split second. Whatever hold he has on the NYPD will snap temporarily.

I’m sure he has a backup. I’m not a complete idiot.

But whatever connections Sharp cultivated over the years might no longer exist for Cardona.

It’s a small comfort. But it might be enough to force an opening. And that opening can help me take Cardona down.

From there, I can find a new lever to push in the NYPD, I manage to think through the haze of vodka.Something to restore the peace.

Stepan is right. I can’t have the NYPD down my back at every turn. That’ll be my end in the long run, even if I do remove Cardona from the board. It needs to be settled first and foremost, before it ruins me.

I scrape my fingers through my hair.

I shouldn’t have shot Sharp.

A knock cuts through the office. For a second, I stare at the door, unsure of whether or not I actually heard that. When a light tap follows, I stand and open the door.

Liya stands on the other side, wearing a new pair of jeans and a loose blouse. The fabric is silky and sheer, revealing a dark tank top underneath. I wonder if it’s Zoya’s or if Gennadiy brought her a new one.

It doesn’t matter. She looks gorgeous either way.

Her eyebrows knit together. “Are you okay?”

Sighing, I drift back from the door and collapse into the nearest cushioned seat. Something falls off the shelf near my elbow. I don’t even look to see what I broke.

I shrug and tell her the truth.

“No.”

She shuts the door quietly and plays with the flowing fabric of her blouse. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I’ve never been like this.”

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