Page 12 of Married to the Bratva

“I thought you wanted him alive.”

“He’s under strict instructions not to kill him. Yet. When Evan gets here, he’ll unlock the file with Sophie’s help, then he’ll die. Not before.”

“And if your plan doesn’t work?”

“I fail, you can kill me. How’s that sound?”

He laughs grimly. “Like the kind of deal only offered by a true Bratva boss.”

8

MAXIM

Igor drags Evan inside. “Whiny little bastard,” he says, tossing Evan to the ground. “Pissed himself after the first slap.”

Evan’s hair is disheveled, his eyes bruised, his cheeks swollen, a cut on his lip. He keeps glancing at the guards over by the door, as if he thinks they’re going to shoot him.

“Where was he?” I ask.

“In his apartment like you said, shacked up with some little slut.”

“Don’t talk about Lila like that,” Evan says.

Igor slaps him across the face hard enough to make him stagger. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Enough,” I say, stepping forward. “Igor, you did good. Get back to work.” Igor nods, and heads out as I turn my attention to Evan. “I assume you know who I am.”

Evan’s gaze darts around the room, landing on Sophie for just a second too long before he looks at me. “Maxim Abramov,” he says, feigning confidence. “Let me guess. You want to make a deal?”

“I don’t bargain,” I reply smoothly. “And you have no leverage.”

“I have two hundred million of leverage.”

“That you can’t access. Sophie, tell him about the kill switch.”

He forces a laugh, but I can see the sweat beading on his forehead. “Look, I think–”

“Save it,” I cut him off, my voice sharp. “You stole from me, and now you’re going to work with her to decrypt that file or I’m going to chop you up into pieces small enough to fit in my garbage disposal.”

Evan glances at Sophie again, his smirk faltering. “Is that why she’s here? You think she can get into that system? She’s fucking useless. I took her work and I fixed its flaws. Now that money is locked up tight and it stays that way until I’m on a plane somewhere far from here.”

I step closer, my presence looming over him. “You want to play games, Evan? You stole from me on your wedding day. What was the plan? Take it with you on honeymoon and never come back?”

His smirk returns, though it’s weaker now. “I’ve got protection. Federico. You can’t touch me.”

The mention of Federico sends a cold, sharp anger slicing through me. “Interesting,” I say, my tone flat. “I wondered if you were working with him. You just confirmed it.”

Evan nods, the confidence in his voice false. “You try anything, and you’ll regret it. But let me go and I’ll give you back half. Federico’s fee. How’s that sound?”

I move faster than he expects, my fist slamming into his jaw. The impact sends him staggering back, blood spilling from his split lip. Behind me, I hear Sophie gasp.

“Why didn’t Federico stop me?” I ask, my voice a deadly calm as I advance on him. “Can you see Federico in the room with you right now? I thought he was protecting you. Only from where I’m standing, you don’t look protected.”

He tries to recover, stumbling to his feet. “You kill me and you’ll never get your money back!” he shouts, but his voice cracks, betraying the fear beneath his words.

“It sure will be fun to watch you take your last breath, shitting yourself on my floor.” I punch him in the stomach. Hard.

He hits the ground this time, gasping for air. I hear Sophie let out another small gasp behind me, but I don’t turn around. My focus is entirely on the man sprawled at my feet, the man who dared to think he could steal from me.

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