Page 60 of Caught By the Bratva Beast

And then there's the fact that I told him who my father was.

As I stood there in that hospital room, it felt like I had to tell him the truth. I had to see if he knew anything about his death. Or at least he was going to admit to something.

When he didn't say anything, his face remaining blank even as I told him my father's name my anger bubbled. How could he just stand in front of me and pretend that he didn't know the man he killed?

After all, Nicolo said that Maxim killed him. We spent seven years trying to track Maxim down so I could get revenge. We wouldn't dedicate that time to one man unless it was without a doubt true.

And now instead of dealing with the problem, I'm standing here. Trying to figure out if I love him. I hadn't even given thought to the emotion before Elena said something at the party the night of the crash.

Turning away from him, I lean back over the railing of the balcony, looking at the men walking back and forth across the yard. Security around the houses increased since the attack.

Instead of the men hiding in the woods like they used to, lining the perimeter, and waiting for a threat, they march with guns in their hands, waiting for the chance to kill someone.

If Nicolo is still planning to attack, he will have a much harder time getting in the perimeter. There was no way the Maxim was going to let him get anywhere close to me, not after what happened the other night. I still haven't found a way to tell him about the connection to Nicolo and the rest of the Italian mafia. How do you tell your husband who's in the Bratva, that you've been associated with the Italians for as long as you've been alive?

He could kill me the same way he killed my father for the betrayal. It wouldn't be anything to him to put the gun to my head and pull the trigger.

I doubt he would think twice about it. He may be tender with me at times and gentle but that doesn't mean that there's not still the monster lurking inside.

After taking a deep breath, I push off the railing, pull out my phone and call Aesha.

“I was just thinking about calling you,” she says the second the call connects. “Please tell me that you're alright. When you texted me and said that you've been in a car accident, I started thinking about the worst-case scenario and had the ER nurses checking for you every five minutes.”

“I'm fine, I told you I went home a couple of days ago. There's nothing more than a stiff ankle that twisted the wrong way before we even got in the car.”

Aesha makes a disapproving noise in the back of her throat. “That better have been all it was. I swear to God if I come over and find out that you're hiding things from me. Well, I don't know what I'm going to do.”

For the first time in days, I feel good talking to my best friend, pretending that life is nothing but normal. “Tell me about all the baby lives you're saving these days.”

“How about you tell me when you and that hot husband of yours are planning to have children? You know I'm looking forward to being Auntie Aesha.”

“I think that's off the table for a little while. We've got our problems.”

“What couple doesn't have their problems? You've never settled down with anybody like this before, which makes me think that whatever those problems are, the two of you can overcome them.”

“I don't know about that. Some problems are too big to solve. Or some things that marriage therapy just won't save.”

Not that going to therapy has ever been a consideration in my mind when it comes to my marriage. Something screeches in the background. Aesha groans. “I've gotta get going. Somebody's coding.”

“Well, I was just calling to tell you that I miss you and that we need to get together soon.”

“I'll text you when I'm free and we can set up a time together. Love you, Pearl. I'm glad you're okay.”

“Love you too, Aesha.”

I slide my phone in my back pocket and when I turn around, glancing in the window again, Maxim is out of bed and heading for the door. He slams it shut behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

It's only a matter of time before he decides to either keep me or kill me. Regardless, of my feelings for him.

Chapter 23 - Maxim

I glance at the decanter of scotch sitting on the desk, even though I know I'm not supposed to mix the alcohol with my medication.

There's part of me that wants to just numb the pounding that's in my head.

Yegor walks into my office just as I'm reaching for the bottle, and he pulls it away from me, putting it on a shelf on the other side of the room.

“I don't know what you think you're doing with that, but you're under strict doctor's orders until you get those stitches out of your head.”

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