Page 48 of Secret Bratva Twins

Fuck! We had been spotted.

We ducked. It was a fucking misfire; an act of impulse made to get rid of us. The rest of our men hovered around the surroundings, but the second they heard the gunshot, they scrambled in through the gate.

New method be damned.

“Fucking bastards.” Vincent was calm, much calmer than normal, and before we pressed our backs to each other’s, I thought I saw raw rage in his eyes. But when I tightened my grip and pulled the trigger on some cunt that tried to reload his gun, I realized his eyes were only but a mirror, reflecting what burned inside me.

Paul’s men came at us, and, one after the other, I shot them down like fucking flies.

“Maxim, go inside. I’ll stay outside too—”

One of the men rushed at us from behind and tackled Vincent to the ground, shoving me aside. I saw red until I wanted to taste it. Something like a timebomb went off when I saw my brother struggle under the buffy man.

I tucked my gun behind, between my belt, grabbed him, and swung my fist so hard and so fast that a splitting crack reechoed into the night. I smiled. It wasn’t my fucking bone.

The man glared and gripped his cracked nose, but I was barely done.

Straddling him, my fists went down on his face and came back up with redder each time. A loud ringing erupted in my ears, and I didn’t hear Vincent’s voice until he peeled me off.

“Maxim...”

I got to my feet, pulled out the gun, and fired at the asshole—a bullet through his forehead.

An eerie silence fell between us, save for the rapid gunfire and grunts in the background as punches flew in the air. One man screamed something in Italian but didn’t make it to the last word.

Vincent fired, and he flew back like he’d been jacked.

I wiped the foul blood off my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’m going inside.”

I didn’t wait for his response before marching through the lit porch with shitty flowerpots and vintage lights hanging from the ceiling.

The house seemed empty, and it wasn’t surprising that all the action was taking place outside. I quickened my steps through the foyer and up the stairs, passed a couple of rooms, and poked my head inside every single one of them.

The boys weren’t there. My agitation grew and it felt like I itched everywhere. I needed to calm down and think like Paul: where was the best place to keep pesky little children?

My mind went blank, and just then, I heard the lightest tapping against the wood. It resonated from between the walls. I pressed my ear against it, unsure at first. For all I knew, it could be a termite or a rat. But rats didn’t scrape walls and make hushed conversations the last time I checked.

My blood pumped with more vigor and determination swelled in my chest like a hot air balloon. I took a step back and, just like Gianna had done, I ran forward and rammed it with my shoulder.

It was light. It made a crack, and the conversation paused. My lips tilted up in the smallest smile, and I tried again.

All the while as the wood cracked beneath my weight, a tiny voice said something related to a guard stationed outside the door. But I was too pumped on adrenaline to decipher what it meant.

The fake wall came down in quarters and halves, and I kicked through the dust and the wood in an attempt to enter. I had almost made it through when a hand came down on my shoulder, a hand so heavy I imagined it was a brick at first before I spun.

It then registered what the voice in my head had been screaming all along. There should have been a guard stationed outside the wall—door—and if there wasn’t any, he must have been lurking.

I should have watched out.

It couldn’t have been more obvious that he’d been lurking, patiently waiting for the right moment to strike.

He had stones for eyes, dead and soulless, and bricks for hands. It didn’t help my ego that he towered over me by a few inches.

“Maxim Vadim...”

Ah! He even knew who I was.

It surprised me that he recognized me. “Too bad, I don’t know who’s talking. No name to the face kind of situation. But I can’t tell you it’s great to see you again. That would be a fucking lie through the teeth. So, if you’d please, get the fuck out of my way. You are interrupting something.”

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