Page 49 of Bratva Brother’s Bride

Vera steps out of the bedroom and moves to stand beside me. I can feel the tension radiating off her, but her face is calm.

“Hello, Anton,” she says.

“Vera.” His smile widens. “You’re looking well. Grief suits you.”

“Go to hell.”

He laughs, like she’s told a clever joke. “Still as spirited as ever. I always liked that about you. Dmitri never appreciated it.”

“Dmitri didn’t appreciate much.”

I step forward, putting myself between Anton and Vera. “You’re done talking to her.”

“Am I?” He doesn’t back down. If anything, his smile grows wider. “You’re very protective of her, Roman. Very possessive. One might almost think you’ve forgotten she was your brother’s wife.”

“You’re testing your luck, Anton.”

Anton’s smile fades. His eyes go cold, the predator beneath the charm emerging. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.” I hold his gaze. “Stay away from Vera.”

For a long moment, neither of us moves. The air in the apartment feels heavy, thick with the promise of violence.

Then Anton laughs again, breaking the tension. “You’re very dramatic, Roman. Always have been.” He steps back, his men falling in behind him. “I’ll give you this one. For now.”

He moves toward the door, then pauses. His hand rests on the doorframe and he turns back, his eyes scanning the apartment with a casualness that feels performative.

“Nice place,” he says. “Dmitri always did have good taste in real estate. Though I imagine the market value has gone down since he died.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. Instead Anton smiles and walks out, his men trailing behind him like shadows.

I wait until I hear the elevator ding before I let out a breath.

Vera is still standing beside me, her face pale. “What was that about?”

“Anton being Anton.” I turn to face her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice is shaking.

I step forward, wanting nothing more than to pull her into my arms. Vera steps back instead, letting dark hair spill over her shoulders.

“We should go,” I say instead, and drop my outstretched hand with a scowl. “There’s nothing else here.”

She nods and follows me to the door. As we pass the bedroom, she pauses and looks back at the nightstand. The photographs aren’t visible from here, but I know what she’s thinking. The thought makes my blood boil.

“He really didn’t care about me,” she says quietly. “Any of us. We were just... things to him.”

“Yes,” I say. “You were.”

She doesn’t respond. Vera turns and walks out of the apartment, her head held high even though her hands are still shaking.

I follow her, my mind already turning over what Anton said.

He must have suspected that something is here, but he hasn’t found it yet. The fact that he showed up while we were searching tells me he’s been watching the apartment. Waiting for someone to lead him to what he’s looking for.

If he didn’t find anything tonight, he’ll be back. That, or he’s already moved on to his next lead.

I pull out my phone and send a message to Lev as we walk to the car.