Page 29 of The Bratva Betrayal

"Early morning, remember?" I coo. "Tomorrow?"

He hesitates. "Alright, babe. Tomorrow."

"See you then."

I'm about to hang up when Misha says, "We'll keep the dinner. It'd probably be best if you met Artem properly. Officially."

I make a face. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. And don't disappear on me when you find out what an asshole he is."

Oh, I won't.

But I might when he decides he wants to kill me.

"I won't."

"Okay. See you then."

The line goes quiet. I set the phone down and let the silence settle.

He agreed.

Artem Makarov agreed to sit across from me at a table, not because he's curious or because he wants to. He's decided something, and now he wants to confirm it up close.

That's not good.

My father has made it clear that I'm running out of chances, and disappointing Colin Gallagher has never ended with a stern lecture. He doesn't yell when he's angry. He calculates. He withdraws like affection is a privilege.

Rian and Killian walk into a room and get immediate respect. They're trusted with shipments, meetings, and strategy. I am handed impossible situations wrapped in pretty dresses and told to make myself useful.

And I have. I got close to Misha. I got inside the Volkov orbit. I found information—maybe not enough yet, but enough to prove I'm not useless. Enough to prove I belong in this family beyond being somebody's future wife.

If this falls apart now, I don't know what happens next.

I can’t sit in this apartment and think about it anymore.

I grab my keys and head for the elevator before I can talk myself out of leaving. A few minutes later, I’m in the car, driving without much thought beyond getting away from the city for a while.

By the time I reach my favorite lake, the city has faded behind me, the noise replaced with peace. The air is cooler here, brushing lightly against my skin as I step out of the car. The water stretches out in front of me, dark and endless.

I slip out of my clothes and step forward, the water cool against my skin as it climbs higher, wrapping around me until I'm submerged.

For a moment, everything disappears.

I surface slowly, slicking my hair back as I float, staring up at the sky where the stars are faint. This is the only place I don't feel watched. The only place no one is waiting for me to slip.

My lungs fill slowly, then empty again.

When I leave, he'll still be there.

Watching. Waiting.

And now, close enough to matter.

7

Artem