Page 6 of Obsession of the Bratva

“You do realize normal people would have moved on by now, right? They would not be stalking her and planning to barge in and ruin her wedding.”

I looked at him. “Good thing I’m not normal.”

“That’s one way to describe it.”

A corner of my mouth lifted. Briefly. Then disappeared. The church doors opened, and a group of bridesmaids emerged from a limousine. My attention sharpened instantly, but Vera was nowhere. Just bridesmaids. I already knew their names, backgrounds, and social media accounts. I knew which one talked too much and which one couldn’t keep a secret. But most importantly, I knew how none of them had ever been Vera’s friends and had emerged out of nowhere.

Preparation and details mattered. Especially tonight.

My phone vibrated, and I answered immediately. It was one of my men.

“Yes?”

“It has been confirmed. Target is inside.”

“Location?”

“Private bridal suite in the north wing.”

Exactly where she was supposed to be. I glanced at my watch again and realized only thirty-eight minutes were left until the ceremony. Perfect.

“Any changes?”

“No.”

“Good.”

The line disconnected, and Viktor watched me carefully.

“You still have time to walk away. We don’t have to do this.”

I almost laughed. Instead, I looked through the windshield toward the illuminated church.

“No.”

Because walking away had never truly been an option. Not after everything she had done to me. If I was going to be unhappy for the rest of my life, then I would make sure she remained unhappy too. I opened the door, and Viktor immediately followed. The evening air felt warm against my skin, and music drifted from somewhere inside the church. Guests continued arriving, but nobody paid attention to me.

We crossed the street, but neither of us rushed. Rushing implied uncertainty, and I had never been more certain. The side entrance remained exactly where it should be, and one of my men opened the door before I reached it.

“Boss.”

I nodded once. “Status?”

“Everything’s clear.”

We moved inside. The church smelled faintly of flowers and candle wax as voices echoed through distant hallways. I could hear distant footsteps and laughter. The excitement and anticipation before a wedding filled the air. But none of it interested me. I moved through the building with absolute certainty. Left turn. Twenty paces. Right corridor. Private access staircase. Every detail had already been memorized. Every route practiced. Every variable accounted for. Execution was easy because I was fully prepared. Viktor fell into step beside me.

“Last chance to leave, Nico.”

I glanced at him.

“You’re becoming repetitive.”

“You’ve become impossible.”

Fair. I ignored him and continued walking. A wedding coordinator hurried past us carrying flowers. She didn’t even look in our direction. People saw what they expected to see, and confidence was camouflage. We reached the second floor, and a long hallway stretched ahead with several doors on each side. There was one security guard and a camera stationed right outside.

Nothing complicated.