Page 75 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

She blinks rapidly while staring at our entwined hands. She’s linking her fingers one by one with mine, warmth reverberating through the digits and into my wrist. It races up my arm and latches around my heart, luring me into a state of desire.

It’s so quick. That’s what she does to me.

And resisting it doesn’t even occur to me anymore.

I bow my head respectfully. She’s right—things are out of control, so I’m wrestling to regain it. But I won’t turn away her help.

It’s not the first time she’s come up with a brilliant new idea.

She draws a long breath, holds it, and then exhales slowly. When her gaze meets mine, she’s stronger than I’ve ever seen her. “We should hold off on ambushing the NYPD.”

Perhapsbrilliantis too strong a word. “Why?”

“We don’t have the whole picture. We only have breadcrumbs.”

I shrug. “Breadcrumbs still make a trail.”

“But they could be leading us somewhere other than the bakery, right?” She leans toward me. “We could get trapped.Wecould be the ones who get ambushed.”

“What do you suggest?”

She wrinkles her nose as she leans back an inch. She’s not withdrawing. She’s just thinking. And I can’t help admiring the way her features shift while the thoughts in her head churn.

As Liya mulls over the situation, Viktoria returns with a fresh pack of ginger crackers. Liya oozes gratitude and plops onto the couch with the packet like it’s a treasure. As she struggles with the plastic, I send Viktoria to make us a fresh pot of tea. We need something to help us think.

After watching Liya fight the packaging for a minute too long—and mostly because she looks utterly adorable when she’s flustered—I gently take the crackers from her and pop the side open. Her eyes glow with hunger. She licks her lips and plucks a cracker from the package, munching contentedly as she closes her eyes.

The only time I’ve seen her this ravenous is when she’s dying to have my cock buried in her pussy.

But now isn’t the time to think of such things.

I clear my throat. “Liya?”

She looks at me. No thoughts. Only hunger. “Huh?”

“What do you suggest?”

“Oh!” She sets the package on the coffee table and folds her feet beneath her. Once she’s finished chewing, she says, “Breadcrumbs aren’t enough. We need the loaf.”

“So, we wait?”

She nods. “Wrapping everything up at once is the best option.”

I shake my head. “We can’t afford to wait,rodnaya.”

“Then, what do you suggest?”

Her eyes drop to the crackers. I gesture for her to eat more as I drop into the chair across from her. Fear dripped from her words just moments ago. But now that she’s wrapped in her favorite cardigan and set up with a fresh packet of crackers, she seems to have dropped her guard.

Silent satisfaction flows through me.

She feels safe here.

I need to make sure shecontinuesto feel safe here.

My mind runs through a few scenarios. Ultimately, her safety is my number one concern. Which means she might have to make a few sacrifices along the way.

Which also means telling her something that I know would break her heart.

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