Page 90 of Bratva Brother’s Bride

“Inside,” he says. “Medic’s already set up.”

I nod and park the car. Vera climbs out on unsteady legs, and I resist the urge to reach for her. She needs space right now. I understand that.

The interior of the safe house is warm, lit by low lamps and a fire crackling in the massive stone fireplace. My security team is spread throughout the main room, their weapons close at hand. They watch us enter, their expressions grim.

This is what we’ve come to. Armed guards in a fortress, waiting for the next attack.

“Sit down,” I tell Vera, guiding her toward the couch. “The medic will look at you in a minute.”

“I’m fine,” she says, though she looks very far away. “You’re the one who’s bleeding.”

“I’ve had worse.”

She looks at me then, though she doesn’t hold my gaze for long. “That’s not comforting,” she says, and her voice drips with sarcasm.

Before I can reply, the medic appears at my elbow. She’s a stocky woman with gray-streaked hair and steady hands. I’ve known Yelena for fifteen years. She’s patched me up more times than I can count.

“Sit,” she says, pointing to a chair. “Shirt off.”

I do as she says, stripping off my ruined shirt and dropping it on the floor. Vera’s sharp intake of breath tells me the wound looks worse than it feels.

Yelena probes the gash on my ribs, her fingers efficient and impersonal. “Shallow,” she pronounces. “Needs cleaning and butterfly strips, not stitches. You got lucky.”

“I usually do.”

She snorts and reaches for her supplies. As she works, cleaning the wound and taping it closed, I turn my attention to Vera.

“Tell me what you heard,” I say.

She blinks. “What?”

“In the panic room. You were in there for a while, and there are speakers connected to the hallway. Tell me what you heard.”

Her jaw tightens. “You want me to recount how you killed seven men?”

“I want to know if they said anything. Names or locations. Anything that might tell us more about who sent them.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her eyes drifting to the fire. Then, “I think they mentioned Anton.”

My blood runs cold. “You think?”

“I’m not sure. They were speaking Russian, and I couldn’t understand most of it. But I heard his name. At least I think it was his name.”

“What exactly did you hear?”

She closes her eyes for a second, trying to remember. “One of them said something about Anton wanting it done tonight. That there wouldn’t be another chance.”

Yelena finishes with my ribs and moves to the smaller cuts on my face and hands. I barely notice her working.

“Anything else?”

She hesitates. “I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to think when you’re panicking.”

“You’re safe, that’s the main thing.”

She shakes her head. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“They weren’t just there for you,” I say. “They were there to eliminate witnesses. Clean up loose ends.”