Page 22 of Bratva Bastard

In a split second, Maxim rose to his feet, following me to the door. “I’m sorry you don’t like what I have to say but come on! You’re clearly not in love with that guy, so why string him along? You’re settling, and that’s not fair to you or him! Maybe if you’d think about something other than theassetsthat Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes has to offer, you’d realize that plenty of men have just as much, if not more, to offer.”

He turned away, walking back toward the couch, but not taking a seat—and not looking in my direction, either. “But of course,” he said, his voice low, pained. “I can understand why you wouldn’t want to be with a Bratva bastard.”

I wanted to give him all the reasons for why we could never work. I wanted to tell him that he was much more than theBratva bastardhe believed himself to be, and that any woman should be so lucky to even know him for the short time I had. God, did I want to tell him how much we’d connected over that past week, and how much I wanted us to connect even more.

But when I opened my mouth to speak, I was interrupted by a loud, angry banging on the door.

The tension from our argument dissipated instantly, leaving behind the fear that Sorokin’s men waited on the other side of that door. But when Maxim peeked through the peephole, he sighed in relief, opening the door for his bodyguard.

Great, the same asshole from last night.

“Andrei,” Maxim greeted. “Boy, do I have some shit to tell you.”

10

Maxim

When Andrei stepped into the room, his eyes instantly went to Crissy, and the expression on his face became glowering.

“Long time no see,” she joked uneasily.

“You two know each other?” I asked, my eyes darting between them.

Crissy shook her head. “Not really. I came up to your room last night before my shift to warn you about that woman, but he said you weren’t in.”

“And if I remember correctly,” Andrei said with immense disdain, “I told you to leave and not return.”

I, shorter than Andrei but not intimidated by his giant stature, stepped forward. Placing an arm on his shoulder I said, “Andrei, man. Chill out. Crissy helped me. I can explain it all to you if you’d sit down.”

No sense in explaining it twice. He refused to sit, so I went ahead and called Dimitry, telling him to come to the hotel room so we could discuss what happened. I made Andrei wait patiently until Dimitry arrived.

After explaining my side of the story, Crissy went on to give her side. Dimitry listened, his thumb to his chin in deep thought as Crissy went over every single detail, even the smallest.

When she finished, Dimitry placed a hand on her shoulder, and pulled her in for a hug. “Thank you for saving my brother. If you ever need the favor returned, the Koslovs have your back. But if you don’t mind, I need to speak to my brother about some family business now.”

She nodded, grabbing her purse. “Thank you,” she said to Dimitry, her voice awkward and mousy. Perhaps the company of so many Bratva men in one room was daunting. Before she left, I jogged over to the door, grabbing her hand.

“Wait, Crissy. Can we meet up later? Please. I’d like to thank you properly for saving me with a nice dinner.”

Looking away, she bit her lip to hold back a smile. Facing me, she nodded. “Alright. I have a short shift at the bar later. Meet me at around ten?”

“Sounds good,” I answered, kissing her cheek before she could push me away.

Her fingers brushed over the spot I kissed, and she bumped into the door as she walked away, looking stunned. I closed the door behind her, wishing I could jump up and down like a child to celebrate my victory.

But I turned back to see two sets of eyes watching my every move. Dimitry had an amused smirk on his lips, while Andrei held pure disgust.

“Tell me, brother. How many women do you need in one week?” Dimitry chuckled, leaning back on the sofa and kicking his legs out.

“It’s not like that,” I said, my tone more defensive than I’d intended. “Her best friend just married my best friend, so she’s looking out for me. That’s all. Nothing dirty about it.”

But Dimitry didn’t believe me. He insisted it was more. Even went so far as to call me smitten.

“You need to get a life,” I replied, sitting at the foot of the bed. “So, what should we do about Sorokin’s men? They’re in the hotel somewhere.”

Andrei said, “Maybe your little fling can help us figure out what room they’re in. She works for the hotel, right?”

“No!” I snapped. “She isn’t to be involved in this. Got it?” I glanced around the room, to Dimitry giving me anI knew itlook, so I explained. “Look, she has a sick mom, okay? She doesn’t need to get caught up in this shit. She gave us the information she knew, so let’s leave it at that.”

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