Page 7 of Secret Bratva Twins

I whirled my head to Maxim. I couldn’t die here tonight, I had my children to go back to. Our children. His and mine. I wasn’t going to tell him about them. He abandoned us—them—he didn’t deserve to be a part of their lives.

Common, Gianna. Think of something.

“It’ll be your loss if you kill me. I still have something you might need.” I blurted the words out as if my life depended on how convincing it sounded. Technically, it really depended on how convincing I was. And I wasn’t lying when I said they’d be at a loss. I was the only person who could help them bring my father down.

The question now depended on whether or not I was going to help them.

“Don’t believe a word she says,” Maxim said. His blank mask wasn’t slipping through, but I heard the sting in his voice. Impossible, the man in front of me was incapable of feeling pain.

Sergey looked at his brother. “Why?”

“She’s Michael’s daughter,” Maxim answered. She’s as sneaky as a snake, and her tongue is filled with lies.”

Vlad snorted. “She’s Gianna, isn’t she? The girl you’ve been—”

“I’ll take care of this,” Maxim said, cutting his brother off. “Vlad, you can stay here and take care of the shipments. There was only a little left to take inside before Ms. DeLuca here interrupted our party.” He shot me a glare, and I gave him one right back.

Nikolai rested his back on the truck behind him, arms crossed. “What are you going to do with her?”

Maxim shrugged. “I’m not sure, but she’s not leaving tonight. Not until I find out everything there is to know about her father.”

“I’m not selling my father out to you; he’ll come looking for me if you don’t let me go.” My chest tightened. It was a lie, my father wouldn’t care if I was taken hostage or died here tonight. He’d more likely be happy he could now train my children as new killing machines who’d be more obedient to him.

It was odd, but the thought of burying a knife in my father’s heart gave me a sense of satisfaction. I was going to kill him someday, but first, I needed to find a way to get out of there alive and preferably kill Maxim before I left.

“I don’t think a father who was cowardly enough to send his daughter on a suicide mission will come to save her,” he drawled. He’d seen through my lies, right into the pain in my eyes because I wished it was true. I wished my father would risk it all to come in here and save me, but I knew more than anyone else that he wouldn’t.

A lump formed in my throat. I forced myself to swallow. “Kill me and get it over with then, you won’t get anything from me.”

Maxim smirked. “Trust me, darling. I’ll get everything I want from you. I’ll squeeze the information out of you if I have to.”

“Bastard!” I spat at his foot.

Vlad smiled. “She’s feisty. I like her.” He tapped Maxim’s shoulder. “Good luck breaking that one. I’ll take care of the warehouse. Go handle your business.”

“Let’s speak for a moment,” Nikolai said to Maxim. “In private.”

Vlad sauntered off to supervise the men handling the shipment. Maxim, Sergey, and Nikolai strolled to the other end of the open space to discuss heaven knows what. Mariana was still frowning at me, observing me like she expected me to do something funny. As a matter of fact, I am going to, but I had to bid my time.

Damien was standing behind me with another bodyguard. With the rest of the brothers and their men here, I didn’t stand a chance of escaping just yet.

“Why did you choose me for your dirty work?” Mariana asked, finally breaking the silence between us. “Did I look that easy to you?”

I lifted my shoulders and let them fall. “Do you want me to be honest, or would you prefer I lie to you?”

“Do you think this is a joke?”

“I don’t know, you’re asking a pretty obvious question, so I can only assume you’re joking.”

I narrowed my eyes on her, accessing her from head to toe. Her curly, blonde hair was packed in a neat bun, and her red lipstick complimented her almost pale skin. She wore a white, high-neck tank top and a pair of designer pants. The moonlight danced on her diamond stud earrings.

She was the epitome of classy. Delicate and way too soft for her own good. The mafia world would eat her alive if she weren’t careful.

“Liar!”

My face scrunched up. “What?”

“You’re a liar,” she repeated, her stare unnerving. “The desperation in your eyes this afternoon can’t be faked.”

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