Page 62 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

She has no idea the pain she’s inflicted on me. She can’t possibly understand the way her affection brought me back from the dead—and even more, from the very brink of insanity.

Without it, it feels pointless to be around her.

I shake my head. “It’s a shame.”

I redact my hand. My eyes lose their fire, the fury receding along with everything else. The stony countenance I typically sport shifts right back into place like it never left.

And the moment it clicks into place is the moment she loses all that precious power she snatched up.

But it’s too late. The other Liya is gone. This one is unrecognizable. She’s not the woman I married.

I frown as I search her eyes for the Liya I lost. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

Chapter Sixteen

Liya

It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.

The dreadful feeling of that statement settles in my bones. Dark clouds in the vicinity hang over my head. It’s Willow all over again.

Except it’s not Willow standing in front of me.

It’s Pavel.

And he’s wounded me so hard that I physically recoil.

My back hits the wall. He doesn’t advance. Instead, he’s standing off with a coldness I recognize from our early days together.

No. I touch my stomach while trying to steady myself on the wall.Not again.

Maybe I have been a touch harsh lately. Maybe what Viktoria taught me got to my head.

But maybe I also want to be strong for my husband and my family. I want to be bold so we can stride forward without any shame or regret.

I don’t want to make the same mistakes again.

While his emerald eyes drill into me, I wonder what’s circling behind them. Is he imagining all the things we once did together? Is he thinking about the yacht?

Or something else?

We were practically different creatures back then. He was a fierce pakhan. Me? I was nothing but his pliant wife, barely out of my shell. How quickly things changed!

After taking a deep breath, my focus shifts to the bars of the cell. Kiril is still hanging in a delicate balance. There’s nothing more for either of us to do here, so I take Pavel’s hand and lead him up to the lobby. I pull him into the elevator in silence, my mouth drawn in a tight line.

No emotions. Not yet. I’m waiting for the space to express them.

Because regardless of whether I’m still under the layers that I’ve been building, I’m still me. The only difference is that I understand how much appearances are everything. That won’t change, no matter what Pavel says to me.

And while it still stings, I still have an image to uphold.

Not just for me. For him.

Nobody can touch me. The elevator beeps. The doors open. Pavel gestures for me to walk ahead of him.I won’t apologize.

As soon as we’re inside the suite, Viktoria greets us and offers tea. She doesn’t look at either of us, preferring to turn her attention to the subtle language of our bodies. It makes me wonder how much Pavel talks about me when I’m not around.

And how much does Viktoria tell him?

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