Page 99 of Bratva Brother’s Bride

We walk out of the council chamber together, leaving the elders to their deliberations and Konstantin to his schemes.

29

VERA

We get back to the safe house mid-evening, and Roman hasn’t let me out of his sight ever since.

“Drink?” Lev appears at my elbow, holding out a glass of something amber.

I shake my head. “I shouldn’t.”

Something flickers in his expression, understanding, maybe, and he nods. “I’m not stupid, Vera. It’s non-alcoholic. Roman said you had some of this stuff the other day, and it’s decent.”

“Well then,” I say. “Yes please.”

Roman is across the room, speaking quietly with Artyom about security rotations and perimeter checks. His shoulders are still tense, but some of the edge has worn off since we left Konstantin’s mansion.

Oksana emerges from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with sandwiches and sliced fruit. She sets it on the coffee table and then, to my surprise, pours herself a glass of wine.

I’ve never seen her drink on the job. In all the years I knew her at the mansion, she was always perfectly composed, never a hair out of place. Now she settles onto the couch beside me and takes a long sip, her eyes closing in something that looks almost like relief.

“Today called for it,” she says, catching my look. “Don’t judge.”

“I’m not judging.” I take a sip of my drink. “I’m just surprised.”

“I’m full of surprises.” She takes another sip, then sets the glass down and turns to face me. “How are you feeling, really?”

I consider the question. “Tired,” I admit. “Relieved. Still a little scared, if I’m being honest.”

“That’s normal.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand briefly. “What you went through these last weeks... no one should have to endure that.”

“I’ve endured worse.”

Her expression flickers. “You shouldn’t have had to endure that either.”

There’s something in her voice that makes me look at her more closely. She’s still in her gray dress, but there’s a softness to her tonight that I’ve never seen before. It’s the wine, maybe. Or maybe it’s just the relief of being on the other side of something terrible.

“Can I ask you something personal?” I ask.

She raises an eyebrow. “You can ask. I reserve the right not to answer.”

“Why do you stay? With this family, I mean. You could have left years ago and found a normal job, a normal life.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing the stem of her wine glass. “I asked myself that same question for years,” she says finally. “After my husband died, I needed work. Konstantin gave me a job when no one else would. I told myself it was just that, a job. Something to pay the bills until I figured out what came next.”

“What changed?”

She looks at me, her eyes steady. “The boys, Roman and Dmitri. They were just children when I started, you know. Wild things, always getting into trouble. But Roman...” She pauses, something wistful crossing her face. “Roman had this way of looking at you like you were the only person in the room. Like everything you said mattered.”

I glance across the room at him. He’s talking to Artyom, but as if sensing my gaze, he looks up. Our eyes meet, and something warm blooms in my chest.

“He still does that,” I say softly.

“He does.” Oksana takes another sip of her wine. “I stayed because I thought I could protect them. Make sure they turned out better than their father. I failed with Dmitri, but Roman...” She shakes her head. “He surprised me by coming back from Siberia the way he did, holding onto himself when everything around him was trying to tear him apart.”

She looks at me, and for the first time, I see tears glistening in her eyes. She blinks them away quickly, but not before I notice.

“You’re good for him,” she says. “Better than he deserves, probably, but don’t tell him I said that.”