Page 89 of Bratva Baby

For one second after the line dies, I keep the phone pressed to my ear. My whole body wants to shake now, but I don’t let it. Shaking is for later, when Anton is breathing in front of me and furious enough to tear the city apart.

Niko steps closer. “You’re not going to that yard.”

I turn my head and look at him. “I am.”

“Mr. Reznikov will kill me before Maks does.”

“Then tell him he’ll have to answer to me.”

His mouth opens, then shuts. He’s loyal, not stupid, and there’s a difference. Anton hires men who eventually understand a room.

My phone vibrates before he can argue again.

Unknown number.

I answer, and for one awful second I hear only breathing. Then Anton says, “Sofiya.”

I grip the back of the chair so hard, the wood presses into my palm. His voice is rough, strained, and too carefully held together.

“Where are you hit?”

“You first.”

“Anton.”

“Where are you?”

“In the library.”

“Stay there.”

I almost laugh, and it comes out broken enough that I hate both of us. “You’re bleeding behind an archive building, and you’re still giving orders.”

“Answer me properly.”

“I did.”

“No, you gave me the version that helps you lie.”

He’s hurt, furious, still reading me through a phone line. My throat tightens so fast, I have to swallow before I can speak.

“Can you walk?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Can Kolya?”

“He’s fine.”

“Good.”

“What did you tell Maks?”

I close my eyes, then open them and look at the scarf draped over the back of the chair. The real drive is still in the hem. The lie is somewhere else now, already growing teeth.

“I told him my father left a final reconciliation package.”

Anton goes quiet.