Page 56 of Bratva Prisoner
“The legitimate kind. Though the skills are transferable.”
The casual way he discusses my potential future in his world should alarm me. Instead, it fills me with excitement and glee, no matter how much I try to pretend otherwise.
Around noon, Dmitri arrives with Cecily in tow, as predicted. The four of us share lunch in Maksim’s office while we discuss everything from current events to family gossip. These moments feel remarkably normal, like we’re just friends meeting for a casual meal instead of criminals planning their next operations.
“How’s the new security system working out?” Dmitri asks between bites of his sandwich.
“Better than expected. Response time is down to under three minutes for perimeter breaches, and the facial recognition software has flagged two potential problems this week alone.”
“Problems?” I interrupt, suddenly aware that I might not want to know the answer.
“Former employees who thought they could steal from us,” Maksim explains with the same tone he’d use to discuss the weather. “We had a conversation with them about career alternatives.”
Cecily catches my eye and gives a subtle head shake, a signal I’ve learned means ‘don’t ask for details.’ Some aspects of this world still require willful ignorance on my part.
“Alyssa’s been learning the import procedures,” Maksim continues, changing the subject. “She caught an error in the German manifest that could have cost us a significant delay.”
“Impressive,” Dmitri replies with genuine approval. “Not many people can make sense of international shipping documentation on their first try.”
The praise makes me flush with pride, which probably says something unsettling about my psychological state. When did I start caring so much about the approval of criminals?
Our pleasant lunch is interrupted by Dyrel bursting through the office door without knocking.
“Boss, we’ve got a situation at the main gate. Vincent Kozlov is here with four men, and he’s demanding to speak with you.”
The temperature in the room plummets by twenty degrees. Maksim’s entire demeanor changes from relaxed to alert in the span of a heartbeat, while Dmitri’s hand moves instinctively toward something beneath his jacket.
“Kozlov?” Maksim repeats. “What does he want?”
“Claims it’s about the Prague shipment. Says you’re cutting him out of a deal that was already agreed upon.”
Maksim and Dmitri exchange a look loaded with meaning I can’t interpret. Cecily reaches over and takes my hand under the table.
“Who’s Vincent Kozlov?” I whisper.
“Someone who used to be a friend,” she whispers back. “Emphasis on ‘used to be.’”
“Tell him I’ll be out in five minutes,” Maksim instructs Dyrel. “And make sure the perimeter security is active.”
Dyrel nods and disappears, leaving the four of us in suffocating silence.
“This could get messy,” Dmitri declares in warning.
“It won’t come to that,” Maksim replies, but his tone lacks conviction. “Kozlov’s too smart to start trouble on our territory.”
“Is he?” Cecily asks pointedly. “Because allying with the Serpents doesn’t exactly scream intelligence to me.”
The mention of the Serpents makes my blood run cold. These past weeks of relative safety have made me forget about the threat that brought Maksim and me together in the first place.
“The Serpents?” I echo. “Troy’s people?”
“Kozlov’s been working with them for the past month,” Dmitri explains. “We cut ties with him the moment we found out, but apparently, he’s not taking the rejection well.”
“Should I leave?” I ask, already half-rising from my chair.
“No.” Maksim’s voice carries an authority I’ve learned not to question. “You stay here with Cecily. Dmitri and I will handle this.”
“Maksim—”
