Page 96 of The Cold Bratva King and His Forced Curvy Bride

“Maybe.” She takes a sip of her tea. “I’ve seen him with many things. Money. Guns. Territory. He treats them well. He maintains them, but he doesn’t look at them the way he looks at you.”

I look away, staring at the rain streaking the window. “He’s a monster, Anna. I saw him… he killed a man without blinking.”

“He’s a Pakhan,” she says, as if that explains everything. “He does what needs to be done. To protect the family. To protect you.”

“By killing people?”

“By removing threats.” She sets her cup down, her gaze fixed on mine. “You know, before you came along, he was… cold. Not unkind, but distant. Like a statue carved from ice. He did his job, he ran the empire, but there was no joy in it. No life.” She pauses. “He changed your locks, you know.”

“What?”

“He went to your apartment and added security so that nobody would break in while it was empty.”

My mouth goes dry. “I… I didn’t know.”

“That was the point.”

She leans forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“He had a tail on you for months before he ever approached you. Not to spy. To watch. To make sure no one else was watching. When that ex-boyfriend of yours showed up—the one who ghosted you? Nikita had him picked up within an hour..”

I stare at her. “Rafael?”

“The same. The boy was scared, but he was unharmed. Nikita just wanted to make sure you weren’t bothered.”

I think back to that day in the café. Rafael looking over his shoulder. The way he’d apologized and then vanished.

“He never told me,” I whisper.

“He doesn’t brag,” Anna says. “He doesn’t want a medal; he just wants you safe.”

I touch the sapphire pendant again. The weight of it seems to triple. “He’s… protecting me,” I say, testing the words. “Even when I’m trying to destroy him?”

“Especially then,” Anna says, smiling. “He knows that if you destroy him, you’ll be the one standing in the rubble, and he wants to make sure you’re strong enough to survive it.”

I stand up, unable to sit still. The room feels too small, too full of revelations I’m not ready to process.

“I need air,” I mutter.

“There’s no balcony,” Anna says. “Just the window.”

I stare out at the city again. “He’s going to come back, isn’t he?” I ask, my voice barely audible.

“He always comes back.”

“But what if… what if this time is different?”

“He is Gromov,” Anna says firmly. “Gromovs are very hard to kill.”

I watch the taillights of a car fade into the distance.

“Don’t let him see you afraid,” she adds. “He needs you strong.”

“I’m not afraid for me,” I admit, the truth tumbling out before I can stop it. “I’m afraid for him.”

Anna nods, a small, satisfied smile touching her lips. “Then you’re already exactly where you need to be.”

She stands to leave, taking the tray with her. The silence returns, but it’s different now. Less oppressive.