Page 42 of Bratva Brother’s Bride

“Roman trusts you,” Vera says. “That must mean something.”

“It means I haven’t betrayed him yet.” Lev’s voice is dry. “Give it time.”

Her lips quirk. “Funny.”

We stand there for a moment. I can hear the rain pattering against the windows, heavier now. It streaks the window in pale lines, each drop tracing a crooked path down the glass.

“We should go,” I say, breaking the silence.

Lev nods and reaches for the door. But before he opens it, he turns back to Vera.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I hope you make the right choice.”

Vera’s chin lifts. “What choice would that be?”

“The one that keeps you alive.” He pulls the door open and steps outside. “Roman’s not perfect, but he’s better than the alternative.”

He doesn’t wait for her response. He just disappears, leaving me alone with Vera.

She’s staring at the closed door, her expression unreadable. “He’s charming,” she says finally.

I reach out and touch her arm. She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t lean into the touch either. She looks up at me. Her eyes are searching, trying to find something I’m not sure I can give her.

“Be careful tonight,” she says.

“I will.”

I catch up to Lev outside the penthouse. He’s already at the elevator, his finger hovering over the call button.

“She doesn’t like me,” he says without turning around.

The elevator arrives and we step inside. The doors close and we descend in silence. When we reach the ground floor, Artyom is waiting with the car.

“I’ll ride shotgun,” Lev says. “Give you time to think.”

He doesn’t wait for my response, just slides into the front passenger seat. I climb in the back and pull the door shut behind me.

Artyom pulls away from the curb. Rain streaks the windows, blurring the city lights into smears of gold and red. Lev and I watch the streets slide past, neither of us speaking.

The penthouse feels very far away now. Vera feels very far away.

But she’ll be mine eventually, and that’s all I care about.

13

VERA

Iwake to dim morning light and the sound of rain against the windows.

For a moment, I don’t remember where I am. Then it comes back to me; I’m in Roman’s penthouse.

I roll over and check the time. Seven o’clock. There’s no sign of Roman. He must have left hours ago.

The tiredness from yesterday hasn’t gone away; if anything, it’s worse. I feel like I spent the whole night running instead of sleeping.

The shower helps a little. The hot water eases some of the ache from my muscles, but it doesn’t touch the exhaustion that seems to have settled into my bones. I dress in clothes I find in the closet, and make my way to the kitchen.

The penthouse is too quiet without Roman in it. Every footstep echoes off the hardwood floors.