Page 47 of Bratva Bastard

But before I could ask Misha, Sorokin called my phone.I’d rather deal with the kidnapper than this asshole.I shook my limbs, and put on a fake smile even if he wasn’t in the room. “Sorokin,” I said in a friendly tone.

“Maxim, it’s good to speak with you,son.” The way he said it was like the way he said everything—with a smile to hide the displeasure. Sorokin was a cunning man, deceitful, who relied more on his wit than brute force, and in that, we were the same. He was the man who would sit back and watch the other warriors tear each other apart, waiting for the opportunity to swoop in and take what he wanted. But what did he want from me?

“I was hoping you could join me for dinner tonight,” he said, his voice cheery. “Just us men. Call it a little father and son-in-law bonding.”

He loved throwing that in my face every chance he got, mocking my inability to run away from my marriage to that hag. But with a kind tone. As if I couldn’t see through his mask. I knew he was plotting something against me, but I didn’t know what.

“That sounds fun,” I said in a tone much less enthusiastic than his. Sure, I could play the part, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of pretending to like it.

“Splendid! You can come by around eight. Ana will be distracted, leaving us men to have a, shall we say,heart-to-heart.” He chuckled, his laugh menacing and wicked.

“Can’t wait,” I answered with sarcasm.

“Do svidaniya,son.” He cackled some more before the line cut off, meaning he’d hung up on me.

Asshole.

So, now I had to tell Misha and Dimitry about mother,andprepare myself for this dinner with Sorokin. Not to mention, I still had to check in with St. Petersburg.Why couldn’t everyone just leave me the fuck alone?

* * *

“Privet, Maxim,”Sorokin greeted me as I stood in the doorway of his dining hall. I called it a hall because the room was massive, with a table that could easily seat 20. Why anyone would need a table that big for dinner was beyond me. “Come. Sit, sit.” He gestured to the chairs eagerly.

I sat down, pushing the tablecloth that hung down off my knees. Big fucking surprise—the tablecloth was gold.This guy…I didn’t have the patience to deal with his bullshit.

A servant came in with two trays, placing our plates in front of us on the table. Salisbury steak. At least he had good taste. We ate in silence mostly, Sorokin keeping up light conversation to be polite, though neither of us cared to have it. But when we finished eating our dinner, his face transformed, a devilish grin curling at his disgusting lips.

“Now that we’ve finished eating, it’s time for thatheart-to-heart.”

Whoopdi-fucking-doo. Just what I wanted…

“What topic did you have in mind?” I asked, knowing it related to Ana and what she probably said to him after I left the other day.

“I would like to speak with you about my daughter Ana. She feels rejected by you, Maxim. She told me yesterday that you refuse to be kind to her, or show her any loving affection.”

The phrase is love and affection, asswipe. Shows how smart you are.Though, I didn’t say that out loud. I kept silent as he went on.

“If this is the case, then we have a problem. You see, you’re not living up to your end of the bargain, and I’d hate to make any hasty decisions based on your lack of concern for our agreement. Based on your behavior, I’ve been reconsidering our truce.”

You’re not the only one.I knew there was a but coming, I was just waiting for him to get on with what he wanted from me.

“However,” he said, on cue. “There is something we can do to show you’re serious about this wedding, and that you don’t plan to go back on our word.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

“Spend time with her,” he answered, as if sayingduh. “Take her out. Treat her like your wife—like a fuckingqueen—and I will consider you our ally. But until then, I have no choice but to think our truce is a lie. Prove to me it isn’t.”

So basically, he was telling meyou’re on thin ice, mister.He might as well have said that, because I knew that was what he meant.

It wasn’t long after our talk that I left. I could tell he didn’t want me to hang around, andIsure as hell didn’t want to. So, I left.

Great. This was just fucking great. All the effort I’d made around Ana meant nothing if I couldn’t commit. But that was just it, I didn’t want to commit. I didn’t want any of this. Spending the rest of my life glued to a woman I couldn’t stand… I’d rather die than give them the satisfaction.

The only thing that kept me going, that kept me trying to make it work, was knowing that if I didn’t, my brothers would suffer. But to keep them from paying the price for my mistakes, that meantIhad to suffer.

How’s that for irony?What a tangled fucking mess.

Just when I’d thought about calling Crissy back, and finally explaining why I’d been absent, Sorokin throws this against me. More threats.

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