Page 76 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

But it’s necessary.

“You should defer your acceptance to Weill Cornell,” I tell her.

The cracker in her finger snaps in half and hits the floor. “What?”

“Just by a year,” I assure her. “Until this is all over.”

“You really think this will be over in a year?”

It takes effort to ignore her piercing gaze. Now that I care for her, it’s not as easy to pass off her expressions. Disappointment tends to hurt the most.

And I hate that I can feel any of it.

“There’s no telling how long this will last,” I reply. “So we have to take every precaution necessary.”

She sits up. “I’mnotdeferring my acceptance. I’m attending Weill Cornell.”

I point to the terrace door. “While the whole city is on fire?”

“You’re the one who encouraged me to accept the interview.”

“The stakes are raised now, Liya.”

She scoffs and shakes her head, dropping the package of crackers on the table. Our radio silence is interrupted only when Viktoria drops off the tea—and then she shuffles off toward the hallway. I hear the guest room door open, a few whispers, and then the silence resumes.

I keep my hands steadily positioned on my knees. “The NYPD can snatch you up whenever they want. They can slap you with a bullshit charge and then toss you into the prison system, where you’ll disappear forever. Is that what you want?”

“No.”

I stare at her. “Then it sounds like your mind is made up.”

“But it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

I frown. “What about the baby?”

“Weill Cornell is my future, Pavel. I won’t throw it away.”

“I won’t let you put yourself in danger like this.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, crimson blooming in her cheeks. She won’t budge. It’s the tenacity in her that always makes me proud, but right now, it’s poorly placed.

“Liya,” I whisper gently. “Think logically.”

“Iamthinking logically.”

I shake my head. “I think the hormones are—”

“That’s a cheap shot, Pavel, and you know it.”

Not a muscle moves out of place despite how badly I want to cave. My worry for her grows into a tumultuous sea, a painful series of waves that laps my body relentlessly. It can’t possibly be more painful for her to choose a course of action that’s right.

It’snotmore painful than losing her.

My fingers tighten around my knees. “You have two choices, Liya. Defer a year until the data is complete or take out part of the NYPD network now.”

“This is ridiculous.”

She rises from the couch and marches across the room, pausing at the sliding glass door to the terrace and making no attempt to go outside. Instead, she traces the metal handle repeatedly as if she wants desperately to get out of the living room but cannot.

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