Page 32 of The Bratva's Captive

I couldn’t refrain from snarling. “So much patience, all to reach the answer that Grandfather had been killed because of Beatrice’s affairs.”

She pursed her lips, frowning at the time I referenced. She’d never been fond of my mother, but she had given her the benefit of the doubt, believing she would grow into her role as a wife to her only son. Yet, she’d paid dearly for that mistake. We all had. Because my mother wanted to be selfish and sleep with otherMafia queens’ husbands, we as a family had paid the price. The man who’d slit my grandfather’s throat had done so as revenge, nothing more.

“I don’t blame you for hating her,” she replied, lifting her gaze to meet mine. “But I do wonder how long you will hold a grudge against all of womankind because of her.”

I slammed my hand to the table now. She could push all she wanted, but she had no room to be bothered when it pissed me off. “Enough about this!”

“Maxim, we need an heir.”

Gritting my teeth, I put both hands on the edge of the table, ready to push back my chair and get away from this damn conversation she was determined to keep playing on repeat.

“You need to do your duty.”

I squinted at her, wondering how the hell she could try to compliment me for keeping my cool and handling the adjustment to being in charge in my father’s place and then just as swiftly condemn me fornotdoing what was expected of me.

“I am.”

She shook her head. “I know you are stepping in to fill his role—for now. But there is no guarantee on his life. The doctors assume he will recover.”

“Are you accusing them of lying?” I challenged.

“No.” She kept her chin tipped up, not backing down. “But there is no guarantee when he’ll recover and if he’ll be the same man when he does.”

I opened and closed my mouth, almost feeling defeated by that detail. The doctors had stressed the possibility that Father might not be mentally ready for leadership for a long time.

“And as such, you would do well to consider that this might not be as temporary of a position as you might wish it to be.” She stood, dropping her napkin to her plate.

She had a point, but there was never any good from worrying about something that wasn’t certain. A fucking asteroid could hit us just the same as Father might not be able to return to his role as the boss. “I am busy and doing the best I can with this investigation,” I said, also standing.

“I understand that. And if it would ease your mind and your workload, just take some time to preview the files I’ve gathered so far.”

With a grimace, I shook my head. “No. None of those Mafia princesses are suited to be my wife.”

She arched a brow. “So you’ve looked at them?”

I shot her a wry look. “How could I not when you left copies of them in my room, at this table, in the kitchen, and in Father’s office on his desk?”

A slight smile lifted her lips. “No one can accuse me of not being determined.”

I rolled my eyes, leaving the room. With my back to her, I felt free to furrow my brow and let some of this frustration leak out in my expression.

I did notice the folders she had on the Mafia daughters. And none of them were what I’d want.

I wantedher. I wanted the blonde I saw at the strip club, that dancer who’d made me come so hard that I doubted one time would ever be enough.

So desperate to have a connection with the woman I couldn’t forget about, last night, I asked the soldier I tasked with watching over her after I left that night who she was.

He gave me just a name, nothing more.

Sloane.

That was who I couldn’t get out of my mind.

That was the name of the woman I wanted to look for, if I ever set out to pursue a woman to keep in my life.

No one else would do. None of those whiny, same-old Mafia princesses who were too submissive and docile would interest me now.

I sighed, considering how well my brothers and the soldiers were handling the investigation of Father’s poisoning so far.

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