Page 23 of Caught By the Bratva Beast

But how do you stop a man from bleeding out of a gunshot wound to his head?

It is a question that I still don't know how to answer, even though I've spent too much of my life thinking about it.

With a deep breath, I pull myself out of bed and walk to the doors, open them, and step out onto the balcony for the fresh morning air that greets me. The stone of the balcony is cold against my feet, much like the chill in the breeze. The scent of early morning dew carries far as strands of grass dance in the wind.

I stare at the mountains, watching the sun rise to crest over the top of them. If I had known that a place like this existed back then, I might have run away to Russia instead of staying with Nicolo and trying to figure out the rest of my life.

Truthfully, though, I never would have left.

He finished putting me through private school, even if I did have to live in a group home for a long time. He said it was for my safety—that it was better that I stayed with the kind woman running the group home and other kids instead of living with him. He had said that his life wasn't safe, and I knew that to be the truth.

Nicolo’s way of life robbed me of the only person in the world who loved me.

As soon as I could, I left the home behind, eager to start fresh. Three years of hell was more than enough. I concentrated on my degree, studied hard, and in my spare time was trained and taught skills by Nicolo and his men. For my protection, he said, to be able to fend for myself if necessary.

Walking over to the railing, I look at the glass panels and the droplets on them. For a moment, I crouch down and trace my finger through the condensation, drawing a picture of a cat.

I stand up again, and glance over the railing down at the mountains and saw Maxim heading toward a building at the back of the property. Or at least what I could see of the property that stretched beyond the small wood building and disappeared in the trees until the leaves became too thick to see through.

I wait for a few minutes, hoping that he'll come out, but when he doesn't, I turn and head back into the house.

If I were willing to go against Nicolo’s orders, now would be the time to kill Maxim.

I could track him down to that building. As far as I know, he's in there alone. He said that none of his people would be visible this week. It would be easy enough to slip in with a gun, press it to the back of his head and pull the trigger.

Except I want him to know that I'm the one who killed him.

I want him to know that I'm Aaron's daughter. It’s going to be sweet to see his expression when he realizes he can’t get away with killing my father.

And then I'm getting my revenge.

I don't think he would ever know what hit him. He wouldn't expect it at all.

He should have run a background check on me. An extensive one.

That's going to be an oversight that he's going to live only a short time to regret.

***

Late into the morning, Maxim stands from the table and offers me his hand. Playing the part, I know I'm supposed to, I put my hand in his, letting him lead me out the back door, down the steps, and around the winding stone path to the building he had been to earlier this morning.

As he opens the tall wooden doors with iron framing on them, the scent of horses and hay hits me immediately.

“Do you know how to ride?” he asks, stepping inside the stable, his boots hitting the floor.

“I've only ridden a couple of times before, but I have to admit most of it was done at those free pony rides at petting zoos.” I keep a straight face. Of course, I know how to ride, but I let him believe that I’m a little nervous at the thought of getting onto a horse.

“Well, being on a horse is nothing like being on one of the ponies at a zoo. You don't need to worry though; my horses have been raised here since they were foals. I've taken to teaching them myself, making sure that they're gentle enough for even the most inexperienced rider.”

“Are you sure that your horses aren’t going to throw me off? I've heard of stories before. People get thrown from horses and they break a leg or their back, or worse, their neck. I don't want that.”

“If you did fall off, you'd be able to stay here with me longer.”

“That's a very funny way of asking me to extend my vacation with you. You could’ve simply said that you wanted to spend more days together instead of insisting that I get on a horse.”

Maxim turns around, invading my space, walking closer to me as I take a step back. I'm trapped between his body and the stall door behind me.

As he braces his hands on the railing and looks down at me, he looms closer and closer, the distance closing between us as I think he's about to kiss me.

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