Page 113 of Bratva Brother’s Bride

“That’s good.” She sets the tray down on the nightstand and begins to check his vitals. “The fever’s still down. Heart rate’s steady. That’s a very good sign.”

“Can he hear us?”

“Possibly,” she says. “Unconscious people can sometimes hear what’s going on around them. It’s not uncommon for them to remember conversations later.”

I nod, my hand tightening around Roman’s. “Then I have something to say to him.”

Yelena looks at me. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

She slips out as quietly as she came, leaving me with Roman. I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts, trying to find the words I need to say.

“Roman.” His name comes out too small for what I feel. I try again. “Roman. I don’t know if you can hear me. But I’m not going anywhere. Whatever it takes to bring you back, I’ll pay it.”

I lean forward, my elbows on my knees and my eyes fixed on his face. “You promised me once that you’d protect me, that you’d protect our child.” My hand finds my stomach without asking. “You never thought you’d be the one who needed protecting. So let me be clear, since you can’t argue—I’m going to protect our family now. Whatever it costs.”

The door clicks softly again, and it takes me a second to realize Lev has left, too. I’d been so focused on Roman, I’d forgotten Lev was still there.

I take a shaky breath. “Three years I’ve been afraid, Roman. Three years letting other people make decisions for me, letting other people dictate my life. That’s over now. I’m done being afraid. I’m done being a victim.” I shake my head. “That girl doesn’t exist anymore.”

I lace my fingers through his. “We’re going to get through this. We’re going to have this baby, and we’re going to build a life together. A real life, not this... this darkness that’s been chasing us.”

I can feel the tears welling up, but I blink them back. I won’t cry. Not when I need to be strong.

“Konstantin thinks he can use this to his advantage,” I say, my voice hardening. “He thinks he can use your injuries to take control and spin a narrative that serves his purposes. He’s wrong. I’m not going to let him. I’m not going to let him hurt you, or our family, ever again.”

I lean over and press my mouth to his forehead, holding it there longer than I should, breathing him in. “You rest now. When you wake up, we’ll face whatever comes next together.”

The door eases open. Lev’s face appears in the gap. “Vera?”

“I’m alright,” I say. And for the first time, I think I might actually mean it.

He nods, but the worry stays in his eyes. “We need to talk about Konstantin.”

“I know.”

“Soon.”

“I know that too.” I look back at Roman, at the steady rise and fall of his chest, each breath holding a piece of me with it. “Just give me this. A little longer.”

Lev hesitates in the doorway, then something in his shoulders loosens. “You’re right. It’ll keep a few hours. Be with him. You’ll need to be strong while he recovers.”

“I will be.” My hand finds his again. “I already am.”

The morning passes in a blur of quiet activity. Yelena checks on Roman regularly, her expression growing more optimistic each time.

I stay by Roman’s side, my hand never leaving his. I talk to him sometimes, telling him about the baby, about our future. I don’t know if he can hear me, but it feels important to say the words out loud, to give them shape and substance in the world.

Around noon, Roman stirs.

His eyelids flutter, his fingers twitching in my hand.

I lean forward. “Roman?” I say, my voice soft. “Can you hear me? It’s Vera. I’m right here.”

His eyes open slowly, struggling to focus. They’re cloudy with pain and confusion, but they focus on me after a moment and a small, tired smile touches his lips.

“Vera,” he says, his voice rough, hoarse. “How long was I out?”

“Since last night,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “Almost a day. You scared the hell out of me.”