Page 26 of Captivated By the Bratva

He tugged down the collar to his wet shirt. The T-shirt stuck to him like a layer I would love to peel off. I’d felt a sample of his hard, muscled physique pressed against me when he slammed my back to the tree. And I wished I could feelallof him.

A tattoo showed on the side of his neck, low and almost hidden under his collar.

“Any Avilov would be marked. Just like the Valkovs are marked.”

“That’s stupid.” I didn’t protest when he got us walking again. “Getting inked to be identified as one of the cult?”

“Not a cult. A family.”

“Sounds close enough.”

“Like you should talk. You’ve got a lot of ink.”

I shrugged. “It’s not to identify myself. It’s… an expression of art.”

“I didn’t ask for an explanation.”

I shot him a dirty glare.

“I saw no marking on that man.” He frowned, seeming pensive. “Then again, maybe he just got his mark somewhere else.”

“Are you Mafia men ‘allowed’ to pick where it goes?”

“Yes. My brother Nickolai got his somewhere private.”

“Well, I know that man worked for Mr. Avilov. He looked like that type.”

He huffed. “And that’s enough for you to jump to a conclusion?”

“I didn’t have to jump to any conclusion. Mr. Avilov made it clear six years ago that he intended to make me his bride. He had similar-looking thugs like that guy with him as backup. Ever since that day, I’ve been running and hiding, always looking over my shoulder for those kinds of creeps to come snatch me andmake this wedding happen. No one else would’ve been looking for me like that.”

“Not necessarily.”

I frowned at him. I understood why Maxim was after me. He’d been sent, basically by my father, to retrieve me. “What do you mean?”

“If Avilov made it public knowledge that you were arranged to marry him, another enemy might have planned to kidnap you as leverage to attack him.”

“What, like taking something of his—or something he wants—to ensure he does what they want?”

He nodded. “Exactly that.” When he looked at me, it was with less antagonism. “Have you actually met anyone from the Avilov Family?”

I shook my head. “I ran out of the house when he tried to take me as a child bride.”When I was fifteen fucking years old.“I’ve seen pictures of him. I saw his security guards that night. I’ve always felt like I’d just know when one came for me.”

He remained silent, walking up this remote road. I didn’t know if he had a plan B or any strategy to follow, but it was better than what I was prepared to do. In a twisted, bizarre way, I felt safer with him. But I wasn’t. I wouldn’t be safe as long as he planned to take me home.

“Please, Maxim.”

He chuckled dryly. “As much as I love to hear you begging, sweetheart, you won’t make me change my mind.”

Sweetheart.I got the hunch he said it to tease me. To ridicule me, maybe even belittle me with a reminder that he was older and stronger than me. He had to have at least ten years on me, but that age difference didn’t bother me like the forty-plus years that stood between me and Mr. Avilov.

I bit my lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of backing down or trying my luck with persuasion.

While I was grateful for his protection so far, I couldn’t let myself appreciate him too much. I couldn’t if he was stuck in his decision to bring me home.

“Please understand. Look at it from my point of view.”

“That of a rebellious, stubborn woman who won’t do as she’s told?”

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