Page 68 of Married to the Bratva

I lean against the desk, my arms crossed tightly as I watch him. My nails dig into my palms as anxiety coils in my chest. The faint buzz of a voice on the other end of the line carries through the room, but I can’t make out the words.

“No response?” His tone drops, ice laced with steel. He listens for a moment, then curses under his breath. “Keep trying. I want confirmation one way or another in three minutes.”

He hangs up and tosses the phone onto the desk with enough force to make it skid across the surface.

For a moment, he just stands there, his shoulders rigid, his fists clenched. The quiet rage radiating off him is suffocating.

“They’re not answering,” he says, his voice deceptively calm.

“What does that mean?” I ask, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

“It means the men I left to guard your grandmother are dead,” he replies bluntly.

His gaze snaps to mine, dark and unyielding. “Call Evan, use my phone. Tell him you need one more hour.”

“He said he’d hurt her if I didn’t do it in time.”

He shakes his head. “He’s too greedy to think straight. He’ll give you the extension, trust me. More than enough time for my crew to get ready.” He holds out his cellphone. “Make the call now and be sure to make it convincing.”

“I don’t know if I can do it,” I say. “What if he sees through me?”

“You acted in love for Andrei. He believed you, sold to me just now. You can do this. I believe in you, Sophie. Make the call. Time’s running out.”

50

MAXIM

The rhythmic thrum of the helicopter blades beats through the cabin, a steady, relentless sound that matches the pounding in my chest.

Across me, my men are ready, all armed to the teeth. Sophie sits in the middle of them, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” I say, speaking into my earpiece.

She doesn’t answer, her shoulders stiff, her jaw clenched. Her silence is louder than any words.

“Sophie,” I call her name while waving. She turns her head slowly, her eyes wide, glassy with unshed tears.

“What?” she asks.

“We’ll get her back. I swear it.”

Her lip trembles, and she quickly presses them together as if trying to steel herself. “She’s all I have, Maxim. If we’re too late…” Her voice breaks, and she looks away, blinking rapidly. “What if he didn’t believe me?”

“He did.”

I unbuckle my harness and move to sit beside her, ignoring the turbulence rocking the cabin. My hand reaches out, resting gently on hers where it clutches the edge of her seat. Her fingers are icy, trembling.

“Talk to me,” I urge, my voice low, steady. “Tell me about her. Tell me about your grandma.”

Sophie swallows hard, her gaze fixed on our hands as my thumb brushes lightly over her knuckles.

“She’s everything,” she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “When my mom died, she was the one who kept me from falling apart. I was twelve. She tried to make life normal.”

Her fingers tighten around mine, her knuckles whitening. “She hid the worst parts of it from me. My mom’s addiction, the strangers she brought around, the chaos. Grandma made me feel safe.”

Her breathing shudders as she continues. “When my dad walked out and never looked back, she was the one who held me. She told me he didn’t deserve me, that I was better off without him. She’s the reason I survived all of it. She’s my family, Maxim. My only family.”

Her tears spill over, and I lift my other hand to cup her cheek, brushing them away. She doesn’t flinch at the contact, leaning into my palm instead.

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