AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Nothing definitive yet, but there’s something there, and I’m going to find out what it is,” I told him.
“Be careful,” he warned. “Women can be just as lethal as men.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” I chuckled.
After hanging up with Avgust, I thought about all the things that this could be, but I knew for certain that this had nothing to do with the Sartoris or O’Briens. Even if we didn’t have an unspoken truce right now, neither outfit used women to do their dirty work. Of course, she could be working for someone else, need a favor for her strung-out boyfriend, or just wanted to discuss prices. Honestly, it could be anything, but for her sake, it better not be something that she couldn’t walk back from.
When I finally entered the hotel lobby, it was to see Katja sitting patiently on one of the settees that decorated the place, and as I observed her, she seemed more nervous than she’d had when I’d had her locked in the men’s restroom earlier. Whatever this was, I was feeling more and more wary about it.
As soon as I approached the settee, Katja was on her feet, fidgeting with her purse strap hung on her shoulder. “Maksim.”
Having called ahead after getting off the phone with Avgust, we didn’t need to check in at the reception area. Though The Silk Robe was owned by the bratva and was very well protected, I only reserved my rooms through the manager, and I never used the same room twice. For all that we like to preach about loyalty, money would always be a threat to our brotherhood, so a person could never be too careful.
At any rate, if Katja found it strange that we were heading straight for the elevators, she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she silently followed me into the steel box, making me wonder what was so important that she’d follow me anywhere without question, even knowing who I was and what I was known for.
Once we reached the top floor, we got out, then headed down the hallway. Still choosing silence, we entered the suite, and when the door shut behind us, I made sure to lock it. With or without Katja here, I always locked any door that I was behind. Now, while most people would assume that the little measure of caution was because of the life that I led, they’d be wrong. I was in the habit of locking my doors because of Naslediye, my cat. She’d gotten out once, and I was man enough to admit that I had searched for the damn thing for hours before I’d finally found her sleeping underneath one of the rose bushes that decorated the left side of my home. I also named her the Russian word for legacy, letting Akim know that she was going to inherit all my wealth if he ever got on my nerves too much.
Forgetting about my damn cat, I made my way over to where Katja was standing in the middle of the room, then asked, “So, what is it that you wanted to tell me?”
With that simple question, her fingers turned white as she gripped the strap of her purse tighter, and I knew that whatever she wanted to say wasn’t going to be good.
Letting out a deep breath, she finally asked, “Do…do you know someone…someone named Klive Simpson?”
I had my hand wrapped around her throat, and her body slammed up against the wall before she could bury herself deeper in the grave that I was going to dig for her.
Chapter 10
Katja~
Fear raced to every inch of my body as Maksim’s hand threatened to cut off my air, and if I’d thought that I was in over my head before, I could see by the look in Maksim’s dark eyes that I’d just signed my own death warrant, and all I could think about was my grandfather when the police told him about how they’d found my body.
“Are you wired?” Maksim snarled in my face.
My eyes widened as I tried to shake my head, but his hold on my neck was strong enough to stop any movement. Still, I managed to choke out the one word that I was hoping could save me. “No.”
Not believing me, Maksim let go of my neck long enough to tear my dress off me, and as the material floated to the floor, he snatched my purse from my shoulder. I could only stare at him as he grabbed me by my neck again, then dragged me towards the bathroom, my legs doing their best to cooperate.
Once we were in the bathroom, he tossed my purse on the floor, turned on the shower at full blast, then reached down to yank my heels off my feet. He was big enough that he hadn’t needed to let go of my neck, and when he was done with my shoes, he dragged me back into the sitting room, his hold on my neck hard enough to leave bruises.
When he had me back up against the wall, he let go of my neck, but instead of stepping back to give me some room to catch my breath, he flattened his hand against my collarbone, still holding me prisoner. Though this was my fault for agreeing to do this, anger slithered down my spine at the injustice of it all. All I’d wanted to do was save my grandfather, and even if Maksim was satisfied with just killing me, I had no doubt that Klive would go after him.
“You get only one chance at this, Katja,” he warned. “So, if I were you, I’d start talking, and I’d make sure to leave nothing out.”
Doing my best to save my life, I said, “A few days ago, I was having lunch at Trevally’s, and this guy just…he just came over and sat down at my table.” Maksim’s chocolate-colored gaze felt like death coating my skin, and I knew that I needed to make him believe me. “He had an envelope with him, and it was filled with pictures and…and information on me and my grandfather.”
“Your grandfather?”
I nodded frantically. “Yes, he…he lives in an assisted-living complex, and…and he’s the only family that I have left.”
“Let me guess,” Maksim drawled out. “He threatened your grandfather’s life?”
Tears of anger began to coat my eyelashes. “This isn’t a joke,” I spat. “Do you honestly think that I’d get involved with the goddamn Russian Bratva if this was a joke? Do you honestly believe that I’d do something like this if I didn’t really believe that my life and my grandfather’s life were in danger?”
“Finish your story,” he ordered, ignoring my minor outrage.
“After…after he sat down, he asked me if I’d gotten the flowers that he’d sent me at work, letting me know that he knew where I worked,” I went on. “When I asked him who he was, he said his name was Klive Simpson, but I…I called him out on that because his accent was clearly Russian.”
“He speaks with a heavy accent?” Maksim asked, his eyes looking for any lies in my story.
