Page 59 of The Bratva Sinner

“He facilitates access to safer drugs,” she corrects. “There’s a difference.”

I’m not sure there is, but I’m starting to understand the logic. He’s got railings on a treacherous highway.

“It’s like the horses,” I say, almost to myself.

“What?”

“He rescues horses.” I look at Ava. “He does the same thing with women, doesn’t he? Rescues them.”

Ava smiles. “He’s a collector of broken things. He fixes them. Or gives them a safe place to heal.”

“Am I one of his broken things?”

“Aren’t we all?” She stands and adjusts her bikini. “Look, I’m not saying Maksim is a saint. He runs an empire built on things most people think are immoral. But I've seen him sit with a girl who was too scared to speak and just wait. Not push. Not fix. Just wait until she was ready. You don't learn that. You either have it or you don't.

She starts to walk away, then pauses.

“He cares about you,” she says. “More than he probably should. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone. So maybe don’t write him off just because he’s not perfect.”

I watch her leave and let her words sink in.

I sit by the pool for a long time after she’s gone. I can’t help but think about what could have happened to me if Maksim hadn't pulled me out of that club…

I shudder to think about what might have been.

He didn’t have to get mixed up in my drama. He could have walked away, let the Albanians take me, and saved himself the trouble. He didn’t know my story, but he saved me anyway.

I’m not ready to admit what that means to me.

I have feelings for my husband.

And I have no idea what to do about them.

16

Maksim

I step off the plane in Vegas, and I’m irritated as the desert heat hits me hard. People always tell me dry heat is better, but I call bullshit. I feel like I’m inhaling sand instead of oxygen. I was not cut out for desert living. This is all Nikolai’s thing. I’d be happy to stay in Florida, but I didn’t have a choice. Nikolai summoned me, which means I’m preparing to be lectured like I’m fifteen instead of thirty-six.

Damien stayed behind in Miami. Someone needs to watch over things while I’m gone. Watch over her. I’ve got Sampson with me. Nikolai’s team will make sure I don’t end up with a bullet in my head. Vegas people don’t fuck around. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out here. Nikolai dominates it, but the constant threat is just not my thing.

The car that picks me up from the airport is one of Nikolai’s, black and armored, with tinted windows that are needed for relief from the sun and prying eyes. Everything my brother does is excessive. He’s the middle Sokolov, the one who has something to prove.

We pull up to one of his legitimate businesses, a construction site for a massive hotel and casino. The Vegas skyline stretches beyond it. Prime real estate. The hotel that used to stand on this lot had a fire. The fire happened after the owner refused to sell, even though he had made a deal with my brother. Very fortunate for Nikolai.

Nikolai is waiting near a trailer that serves as the site office. He’s dressed in all black despite the heat, arms crossed, and wearing an expression I know too well.

This is going to be a fucking blast.

“Brother.” I approach with my hands in my pockets.

“Don’t ‘brother’ me.” There is a dangerous air about him that is terrifying even when he’s smiling. He spent more time with our father before the old man died. Dad was always harder on him; I never understood why. “You want to explain what the fuck is happening in Miami?”

“Nice to see you, too.”

“Maksim.” He steps closer, his voice dropping to that tone that hints at violence. I love my brother, but I would never pick a fight with him. He’s the quietest and most volatile of the three of us. “One of my armored trucks got hit last week. Three men are dead, and half a million in product is gone.”

I frown. “That’s not on me.”