Page 20 of Hating the Bratva

“I gave her some cash. Told her she didn’t see anything.”

I narrow a glare at him. “Get your ass back there. We don’t leave witnesses.”

“She’s not a threat,” he tries, but he won’t meet my eyes. He knows that’s nonsense.

“Bullshit. Did she see your face?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“That’s what I thought.” Maven moans on the table, and I see the screwdriver sticking straight out of his leg. Xavier must have shoved it in there right before I came downstairs. I grab the handle and twist it. Maven screams, but once again, the sound is muffled. “Can’t you see we’re having a conversation here?”

His eyes start to roll back, and I slap his cheek. “Hey, not yet. We have a long day ahead of us.” I turn my attention back to Xavier. “Go back and take care of that fucking stripper.”

He’s pissed, but he stays quiet as he walks past me. Xavier is one of my best men, so he should know better. This isn’t like him. Maven makes a choking noise, and I remove the gag. He coughs, spraying blood all over himself and me.

I let out a frustrated breath. “Are you ready to talk?”

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