Page 25 of Caught By the Bratva Beast

“I already told you that Prancer isn't going to throw you. Do you trust me?”

There isn't a world in which I should trust Maxim.

And my competitive spirit kicks in.

Before he has the chance to say go, I press my heels against the horse’s ribs, pulling the reins tighter. He gives a large swish of his tail before charging forward, ripping through the clearing, and skirting around the fallen trees that line the perimeter.

Maxim thunders after me, the sound of hoof beats pounding against the ground as he draws closer.

“Faster Prancer we have to beat them.”

It’s as if the horse understands what I'm saying. He runs faster, his neck stretching out as I lean forward and try to align my body with his.

I may not have competed in horse racing, but I know what aerodynamics are and how best to use them. Prancer surges forward, reaching the edge of the clearing seconds before Maxim catches up.

“That was impressive, but if you think I'm ever going to let you beat me again, you've got another thing coming.”

“Ego get hurt?”

“No, but this is where we're going to get off and start the hunt. There are plenty of rabbits in this forest and we might see some foxes if you're lucky. Partridges are plentiful too if you can catch one of them. We could have it for dinner.”

Maxim slides down from his horse. Taking the rifles he slung on either side of his saddle; he hands one to me before taking the other for himself.

We tie the horses to the tree, keeping their lines loose so they can graze as they please.

He leads the way into the forest, his back to me, and for a moment I think it would be the perfect time to shoot him.

Not a single person would see it coming.

He trusts me with a gun on his back because he doesn't know that he shouldn't.

Hell, I could even let him get through the woods a little bit. Disappear behind him, behind one of the trees before tracking him down like the animal he is.

Nicolo said we had to wait though. He wants to destroy the entire empire that Maxim built for himself before we kill him.

Showing the restraint to not shoot a bastard where he stands is difficult.

But the further he gets ahead of me, the higher I aim the rifle at his back but when my finger wraps around the trigger, I find that I can't squeeze.

It isn’t my loyalty that stops me. Not to Nicolo, at least. He would be upset if he knew I had gone against his orders, but in time he would get over that.

No, what stops me is the fact that for the first time in a long time, there’s a man who treats me like a woman and not just somebody to be paid. I'm not Maxim’s employee. I'm not a piece of arm candy he's showing off to the men around him trying to win favors with.

I'm just a woman when I'm with him. Nothing more, nothing less.

I can almost be myself with him and no doubt he likes that, but I have to keep pretending to be someone I don’t want to be–his escort.

I lower the gun, catching up with him and walking alongside him as we go through the forest, leaving through the trees that towered impossibly high over us. A hazy green glow casts through the forest, sunlight filtering through the leaves.

There's a breeze here, but not a strong one. It’s only getting hotter as the day goes on, the ground drying out and the world around us becoming still.

It's just when I'm beginning to think that we won’t find anything to hunt that there is a rustling from the underbrush. Maxim turns around and presses a finger over his lips before pointing to the bush he thinks the sound is coming from. A small bird darts out in front of us before stopping and picking at the ground. It's two dozen feet away, and though I know I could hit it, I need him to believe that I can't.

I aim for the ground just to the right of the bird, finger wrapping around the trigger. From where Maxim stands it looks like I'm trying to hit the bird. As I squeeze the trigger, I try to react how a person would if it were their first time shooting a rifle. I allow the recoil to kick hard in my shoulder, sending me stumbling back a step.

The bird startles at the sound of the gunshot, the dirt flying when the bullet hits the ground. The bird takes to the air and disappears into the trees, leaving us with nothing.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Nobody is good at hunting on their first try.”

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