Page 33 of The Bratva's Forced Innocent Bride

If she was here, did that mean Max was home too? Pride kept me from asking, but boredom had me following her to try on my gift. It was a simple but stunning dress, with thin straps at the shoulders that showed off my new tan. The silky fabric skimmed my thighs with a subtle ruffle that came to my knees. Of course, there were matching shoes, too, and I slid the strappy heels onto my feet.

Olivia, professional to the core and fast becoming a good friend to me despite her utter loyalty to Max, ignored the fact I could use a pedicure and poked me in the arm with a smile.

“I should start swimming,” she said. “You’re getting ripped.”

I couldn’t help but grin at my reflection. I still had my curves, but I was definitely a lot firmer. At home, the only exercise I got was running from my car to classes or work, and I did feel amazingly healthy and strong. The smile fell off my face when Max busted into our room, and Olivia skedaddled.

“Don’t give me that stormy look,” he said, sweeping me from top to toe with a flash of approval in his eyes he quickly doused. “I need you to come with me right away. No, don’t get changed, we need to go now.”

He didn’t seem angry, and I was so intrigued and excited for anything new I didn’t kick up a fuss. He drove us in silence down the coast, and I wondered what to expect the whole time. A gun fight? Hostage situation? Why involve me all of a sudden, and why was I so eager to finally experience a bit of what Max’s life was like when he wasn’t with me?

I barely knew first aid, so I’d be no help if anyone was severely injured. Could I be some sort of bait, like in the movies? I risked a glance at Max, who turned to me with a quick wink, causing a thrill to run through me over where we might be heading. I was shocked to discover how interested I was in his business dealings, and even more thrilled he was going to open up and share.

It made absolutely no sense, and I should have been more worried he had finally grown tired of me and this was my trip to the bottom of the sea.

Which was why I was so disappointed when we pulled up to a restaurant. It was completely shut down for us and there was a bottle of champagne chilling at our table.

“What is this?” I asked, unable to hide the fact the wind had been wholly blown from my sails.

“Our one-month anniversary,” he said, with a huge grin that slowly faded.

I forced a better semblance of a smile, and accepted a glass of champagne from the server. We toasted, and seconds later, my favorite shrimp cocktail arrived.

“You really planned for this,” I said, still trying to hide my lack of enthusiasm.

“Filet mignon for the main,” he said proudly.

I’d never have taken him for the sort to celebrate a tiny milestone like one month together. He’d been taking note of my favorite things, and it didn’t seem overbearing at all that he’d planned the menu ahead of time instead of letting me order. It was sweet. If I hadn’t been getting all worked up for something so much bigger, I might have been really touched by his thoughtfulness.

“What is it?” he asked. “Don’t pretend nothing’s wrong. You can’t keep your real feelings hidden to save your life.”

I frowned at him, because he was dead wrong about that. I was a master of keeping everything under control. Keeping my true emotions under wraps often meant not getting slapped or thrown out of the house when I was a kid. Only Max could read me like a book, and I didn’t know what to make of that. With a shrug, I decided to be honest.

“I guess I was hoping you were going to show me something more…” I trailed off, not wanting to hurt his feelings because the dinner really was fabulous and a kind gesture. “I thought you would let me in on what you do all day and night. Something exciting.”

He laughed, not at all offended. “If it’s excitement you want, there’s plenty to be had. I’m sure we can arrange—Damn it, sorry, Brooke.”

He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and I stared at it as he barked a greeting at whoever had dared to interrupt us. It must have been important because he was half rising as he listened. He raised a brow at me and beckoned for me to follow him.

“Looks like you’re getting your wish,” he said, then turned his attention back to the phone as I scurried along at his heels. Back in the car, he ended the call and turned to me. “That was my brother Dima. He needs my help.”

It had to be urgent to get us out of the restaurant like that, and now Max was skidding through side streets at speeds that had me clinging to my seatbelt. Hell, was this what I really wanted?

Yes, yes, it was. The surprise meal had been an amazing gesture, but I needed some action. My real life was so jam-packed with work, classes, and studying that I just wasn’t cut out to be a lady of leisure. We swerved down side streets until we arrived at an abandoned warehouse. Night was quickly falling around the huge, ramshackle building with boarded-up windows and a sagging roof. I suppressed a shiver as Max skidded to a stop, then sucked in a breath when Dima came running out, waving his arms.

“Back up, get back,” he shouted, hauling ass towards our car.

Max threw the car into reverse just as he reached us and flung his body onto the hood of the car. I slammed my hand onto the windshield, gaping in horror at Dima, who almost rolled off as we skidded backward, the tires screaming as Max put the pedal to the floor.

That wasn’t the only thing screaming. We were only about thirty feet back when the ancient warehouse erupted in a ball of flames, the sound making me clap my hands over my ears for a moment. I blinked through the blinding fire licking toward the sky at Max, who still kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the rearview mirror. Dima was about to go flying, clinging onto the well of the windshield wipers for dear life, as Max slowed down and came to a stop.

I was still screaming when Max took my hand from the windshield, where I’d been mindlessly trying to somehow keep his brother from careening off the hood.

“Is this enough action for you?” he asked.

I snapped my mouth shut, abruptly cutting off my shriek of terror. “Too much,” I said, dropping my head to the dashboard and clutching my chest.

He patted my back, and I was surprised at how quickly I calmed down as Dima climbed into the backseat. He was barelyrattled, and seemed more annoyed than anything as Max began driving to a safer location.

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