Page 49 of Obsession of the Bratva

Her smile widened. “I’ve been told that before.”

“By me.”

“Mostly by you.”

I snorted. She shifted slightly, looking up at me, and for a second neither of us said anything. Because this felt familiar. Dangerously familiar. Like we had somehow slipped backward in time. Back before the lies and the wedding. Back before she shattered my life with six words.

I cheated on you.

The memory arrived like a knife, and just like that, some of the warmth drained from the room. Vera felt it too, just the way she always felt even the slightest dip in my mood. Her smile faded slightly, but it was not completely gone. Just enough. The silence stretched, and then she sighed.

“There it is.” I frowned.

“There what is?”

“The wall.”

My jaw tightened. “What wall?”

“The one you keep pretending doesn’t exist between us.”

I looked away, but she poked my side, clearly demanding attention. As if we were twenty-five years old again and arguing over whose turn it was to choose a movie.

“Nico.”

I ignored her, but she was persistent.

“Nico.”

I still ignored her, not knowing what to say.

“Nico Romanov.”

I grabbed her wrist before she could poke me again, and her laughter immediately returned.

“You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve heard. Mostly by you.”

I released her hand, and she settled back against the pillows. For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable but thoughtful, as if both of us were simply lost in our own worlds.

“What was he like, Vera?”

The shift was immediate. Vera stilled completely, and I already regretted asking. She glanced at me and then looked at the ceiling, clearly trying to avoid that question. I didn’t understand why. Or maybe I did understand why, but still wanted to dig deeper. A part of me simply wanted to find out more about the man she had been engaged to.

“Who?” I gave her a look that said Are you kidding me and she sighed.

“Adrian,” I answered anyway.

The name tasted bitter on my tongue. Adrian Petrov. The man I had spent months hating despite knowing almost nothing about him.

“What was he like?” I repeated the question, but Vera stayed quiet for several seconds. Long enough that I almost thought she wouldn’t answer.

Finally, she spoke. “He was exactly what my father wanted.”

Something unpleasant settled in my stomach. “Meaning?”

“He was obedient.”