Page 33 of Caught By the Bratva Beast

His words sting more than I want them to. I don't like the reminder that he could have gone out at any point and found somebody else to sleep with. That he could have left me in bed in his home and still found a woman he wanted more than me.

Maxim crosses his arms, biceps bulging, veins in the back of his hand, standing out. “I came here because I've decided that you're going to marry me.”

The ground falls out from beneath me as I stare at him.

He can't be serious.

He arches an eyebrow, meeting my stare with one of his own.

When he let out an irritated sigh, it was then that I realized the dark side of Maxim Orlov was coming out to play.

Chapter 11 - Maxim

A few days earlier

“I didn't think you were returning to New York this soon,” Yegor says as he sits down on the other side of the desk from me. “You were supposed to stay in Russia for a week. It's only been two days.”

“Well, plans changed. You said you had information for me, and it couldn't wait until I came back, so I returned sooner than planned. I'd rather hear it in person than sit and talk with you on the phone. Especially if you think it’s important enough to interrupt my holiday.”

Sweat beads on Yeager's forehead as he looks at me before glancing out the window. “How much do you know about this girl, Pearl Wilson?”

I sit up straighter, body tensing. I'm prepared to launch myself over the desk if he says anything about the fact that she's an escort or the men she's been with. We've already discussed her job and as for the men she slept with, even the ones she's just going to dinner with, I don't want to know. It's easier not knowing that she's been with somebody before me in any aspect.

I don't know why the hell I've given this woman the power to drive me wild, but I have. It's eating me alive inside, day by day. If I were a smarter man, I would go out and charm the first whore I found at a strip club, fucking her until I forgot that Pearl ever existed.

“Yegor, talk to me.”

He clears his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Pearl Wilson isn't who you think she is. In fact, there was no record of her before she turned fifteen. From the point of fifteen to eighteen, she was living in an orphanage. No record of any family or life before that.”

“There are plenty of children lost to the system that only appear when whoever has been taking care of them dies. It's not that unheard of.”

Though it does make sense as to why she'd go into a career as an escort. She is broken on the inside from childhood trauma. She may not know what she's worth.

Yeager stands. “We have a meeting to go to.”

“So, you come into my office. You dropped the bomb that Pearl Wilson didn't exist before the age of fifteen. And now you're telling me that instead of talking about this, we have to go to a meeting? I don't fucking think so. Sit your ass back down and tell me whatever it is you have to tell me. Stop being a fucking coward.”

He sits back down wringing his hands together as he looks at me. I don't think I've ever seen him this nervous before.

“Well. It wasn't just the fact that she didn't exist until she was fifteen. She went to school on a scholarship. She got her degree in computer science. Before the scholarship, she had been in a private school but there’s no record of who was paying for it. The group home certainly wasn’t.

That part sticks out as slightly odd to me. I lean back in my chair, scrubbing a hand over my jaw. Why would a woman who is his educated as her—both from an early age and as she got older—go to private school, get a degree, and then turn to escorting? I knew she was well-educated, intelligent, and well-versed in etiquette.

But I also know that she was lying to me about horse riding. That girl was fucking pretending she didn’t know what she was doing, but when it came to the crunch, she rode Prancer like an experienced rider away from the fires. Hell, she could have outraced me, if she weren’t fucking putting on a show.

Perhaps if we had stayed a while longer in Russia, she would have eventually revealed more about herself. I'd already have the answers instead of sitting here like a fool not knowing the truth.

“Is that all?” I ask, my voice pinched. “Maybe next you're going to tell me that she's a man. Even better, she's an Italian.”

“I don't have any information on her yet other than that. I know what you know. She’s twenty-two now and went to school between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one. She worked hard, combining two years into one, and finished a year early.”

“So, you thought calling me back home and telling me that she was an orphan is something I should have left Russia for. You think that was a clever idea? Are you fucking stupid?”

“No, it has to do with the meeting today as well. You know that Ivan wants to talk to you.”

“If this were about a meeting with Ivan, he would have called me himself and spoken to me over the phone. What's going on here, Yegor?”

“I don't know. All I’ve heard was that Ivan needs to talk to you in person. Nikita doesn't even know anything, and you know he's the one who gets some of the best gossip first.”

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