Page 2 of Obsession of the Bratva

“You don’t need to worry about me anymore, Nico. My health is no longer your concern.”

His expression hardened. “Vera.”

The warning in my name made my stomach twist. Nico rarely used that tone with me. Since the day I had met him, he had been nothing but patient and calm. Usually, he looked at me like I was the best thing that had ever happened to him. I couldn’t let him do that anymore.

“You deserved to know the truth, Nico,” I said. “And that is the only reason I am here. I cheated on you with another man, and I could not keep the truth from you any longer.”

“With who?”

“What?”

“Who is he?”

The question came immediately, but I had already expected it. Unfortunately, expecting it didn’t make answering it any easier because I had no clue who to name. I had never been very good at lying, and Nico could read my eyes and my body language within seconds. I didn’t know how to get out of this, but I needed to.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

His voice remained level and controlled. Dangerously controlled. I knew that tone. Anyone who didn’t know Nico would assume he was calm right now. I knew him well enough, though, to know he wasn’t. Not even close. The more controlled he sounded, the angrier he usually was, but I forced myself not to react.

“It was someone I met through work.” That much wasn’t even a lie. There had been someone. The man my father wanted me to marry. The man whose family had connections powerful enough to make even my father nervous. The man standing at the center of this nightmare. Only there had never been an affair or a relationship or anything of that sort. And if it were up to me, there would never be anything in the future as well.

“Do I know him?”

“No.”

“What’s his name?”

I looked directly into his eyes. “I’m not telling you.”

For the first time since I’d arrived, something flickered across his face. Not rage. Not yet. But frustration. Good. I needed frustration and anger, and I needed him to hate me. Because hate would keep him alive.

“You expect me to believe that?”

I shrugged. “I honestly don’t care what you believe.”

The words felt monstrous and very unlike me. I cared too much. That was my flaw. Nico stared at me as silence stretched between us. I wondered if he could hear my heartbeat because it felt loud enough to shake the entire building. Finally, he stood up; the movement was slow and deliberate.

Nico was a large man. Not intimidating because of his size alone, but because of the certainty with which he occupied space. The moment he stood, the entire room felt different. My pulse accelerated, but not because I was afraid of him. I had never been afraid of him. I was afraid of myself. Afraid that if he came any closer or took my face between his fingers in that unique way of his, I would throw myself into his arms and confess everything. He rounded the desk, and I took an instinctive step backward. The movement didn’t escape his notice.

His jaw tightened. “Look at me.”

I forced myself to meet his gaze and immediately regretted it because I could see confusion there. Confusion and hurt. Nico wasn’t stupid. I was sure he knew something was wrong. He could feel it, and for one terrifying moment, I thought he might figure everything out.

“You’ve been crying.” I blinked. Damn it. I should have checked my makeup before coming here.

“I haven’t.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

The irony of that statement nearly made me laugh. Or cry. Maybe both.

“I’m not lying.”

His eyes darkened. “Vera.”

“Stop saying my name like that.”