Page 32 of Bratva Prisoner
“I’ll handle her,” I tell Akim as I stand up.
“Maksim—”
“Just finish with him. Find out everything he knows.”
I push past my brother and sprint toward the door, but Alyssa has already disappeared down the hallway. I can hear her footsteps rushing through the house as she runs from what she’s just seen.
From what I really am.
Chapter 10 - Alyssa
My lungs burn as I race down the marble hallway as the sound of that man’s pain chasing me through the mansion that was supposed to offer me respite. The image won’t leave my head—Maksim sitting there so calmly while his brother beat the hell out of someone, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do.
“Alyssa, wait!” Maksim’s voice booms behind me, and it’s getting closer with each step.
I don’t slow down. I can’t. My feet carry me through the house on autopilot, past the priceless artwork and the crystal chandeliers that suddenly feel like decorations in a haunted mansion. How many other people has he hurt in these rooms? How many secrets are buried beneath all this luxury?
The back door appears ahead of me like salvation, and I burst through it with a squeal. Cool evening air surrounds me, but it does nothing to calm the fire burning in my chest. I make it maybe twenty yards before strong hands grab my shoulders and spin me around to face the man I thought I knew.
“Let me go,” I gasp, trying to wrench free from his grip.
“Not until you listen to me.”
“Listen to you?” The words come out as a shriek that probably disturbs every bird in a five-mile radius. “I just watched you torture someone like it was a fucking hobby!”
“It’s not what you think—”
“It’s exactly what I think!” I finally break away from his hold and stumble backward a few steps. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? The Bratva. That’s how you know so much about Troy and his connections.”
Maksim runs both hands through his hair, messing up the perfect style he wore during our hike this morning. That feels like a lifetime ago now, back when I thought he was just a wealthy businessman with mysterious connections. No. That’s not true. If I’m honest with myself, I knew. Deep down, I knew, but I didn’t want to believe it.
Now there’s no denying it.
“Yes,” he admits, and the single word drops between us like a bomb. “I’m Bratva.”
Hearing him confirm it still makes my stomach lurch. “You lied to me.”
“I protected you from information that would have scared you away.”
“Information I had a right to know!” My voice cracks on the last word, betraying how close I am to completely falling apart. “I trusted you, Maksim. I let you into my life, my bed—”
“We haven’t been together since that night at the club.”
“We would have,” I snap back, hating how true that statement is. “If your brother hadn’t called that night in the pool, we both know what would have happened.”
“Alyssa, I never wanted you to find out like this.”
“How did you want me to find out? After we’d slept together again? After I’d fallen in love with you? Were you planning to spring it on me over breakfast one morning?”
“I don’t know,” he replies as his shoulders slump. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“Of course you hadn’t. Men like you don’t think about consequences for other people.”
“Men like me?”
“Criminals. Killers. People who solve problems with violence instead of words.”
He flinches like I’ve slapped him, and for a moment, I almost feel bad about how judgmental I sound. Almost.
