Page 62 of Secret Bratva Twins

It was a fucking trap.

We had been outsmarted; Paul had planned the entire thing. How did I not see this coming? We walked right into it, turned around blindfolded in circles and wasted time. Just what he wanted.

My palms went down on the wall, and I kicked the smallest stone by my shoes away from my sight. Fuck! I saw red. Spots of fury dotted my vision, and I wanted to draw blood in the most gruesome of ways. Something dark, ugly, and mad battled within me. Threatened to bend the bars holding it captive and rear its head through.

But I had to let sanity take the wheel. It wasn’t yet time to unleash.

I shut my eyes and ground my teeth until my jaw hurt. I bent my head forward and glanced to the side, and the sight of Gianna rubbing her arms teary-eyed, fighting to stay strong, stirred the roaring fumes in my veins. Pushing myself off the wall, I gathered her in my arms. She collapsed on my shoulder, sniffling with quaking shoulders. Her pain fueled my anger.

“This can’t be the end, Max,” she muttered, her fingers digging into my shirt, grazing my torso. “This can’t... It can’t.”

I jutted my jaw. “It isn’t, my love.”

I kissed her hair, pulled her closer, and took out my phone. There was no fucking way I was letting her or my children down. I couldn’t give up. Had to keep pressing and pushing all the fucking buttons until I found them.

With a dial on one number, I stared ahead at waving trees and playful dragonflies and pressed the phone to my ear.

“Privyet.” Hello.

“Raphael...”

There was no need to say more. The frigidness in my tone sent him all the signals he needed to know.

“More trouble?”

“Dah.” Yes. “I need Paul DeLuca’s location, and I need it fast.”

He hissed, cursing under his breath. “The fucking bastard couldn’t wish to die any sooner. I have to get Viktor and Lucien on this. Give us two hours, Max. We’ll help you catch the bloody cunt.”

The dull tone repeated after he hung up, and I clutched the phone in a death grip. If Raphael said two hours, then two hours was all he needed. In the meantime,...

I tipped a finger under her chin and raised her face to meet mine.

Her brown eyes danced with pain, and her lips quivered with uncertainty. The sight of it, watching her wallow in despair and fear, squeezed something inside of me until the one thought I didn’t entertain fleeted past my mind, “What if we don’t find them?”

As quickly as it came, I discarded it.

Tears slipped from her eyes, and I wiped them away with a brush of my thumb. “We are going to find them, Gianna. I swear it.”

She gulped, the look in her eyes frantic. “But what if we don’t?”

“Gianna...”

“No, think about it...” she pulled her face away from my touch. “What if the only thing we are holding onto is the hope that we will find them? What if we don’t? Huh, Max? What if...”

I covered the distance she created and brought my lips close to hers. With one hand, I caressed the softness of her cheek, and with the other, she placed her hand on my chest. “Thinking like that will not lead us anywhere, princess. Trust me, we are going to find them. I swear it.”

For a few seconds, she searched my eyes thoroughly as if seeking out the tiniest sliver of hopefulness to hold on to, and when she found it, she cupped my face, kissed my cheeks, and resumed the position of her head on my shoulder.

“I trust you,” she murmured between my neck. My arms went around her waist, and I only released her when my phone buzzed in my hand.

I pulled back, glimpsed at the screen, and clicked when I saw it was a message from Raphael.

The old B.R.T. facility warehouse is by Parkland Ave.

A smirk formed on my lips. Two hours had turned out to be too much. In a nick of time, they found him. The adrenaline rush resumed through my veins, rage pumping alongside it as I slid my phone into my pocket and clenched my gun.

I took Gianna’s hand and led her to the car. “We’ve got your father’s location: Parkland.”

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