Page 27 of The Brat: Prequel

“Abramovicz and his bastard ilk took her, from a church no less, knowing that she was the sister-in-law of an O’Donnelly. They took Camille too and she is the wife of an O’Donnelly.” When he pulls a face, I drawl, “Is that constipated look because you know I’m right?”

“Just this once.”

“Have you arranged for that boy to have his legs broken yet?”

His nose scrunches up even more.

“Thank Mariska for her time. You can pay for her seeing as you decided to schedule that appointment on my behalf.” When he scowls at me, I hiss, “If I need you to arrange my dates for me, I belong in a coffin.”

He studies his nails. “The men might arrange that soon if your mood doesn’t perk up. I swear you only hacked that Albanian to pieces the other night because you need to get some.”

“Some people need to be hacked.” Before he can make a rejoinder at my pointed remark, I seethe, “Now, fuck off before I slice your throat too.”

Then, I punctuate that by hurling my laptop against the wall and swiping my desk free of paraphernalia.

Victoria turned eighteen last week.

Her saying yes to marrying me isn’t a forgone conclusion.

The idea that he’d think I’d jeopardize⁠—

That he’d arrange⁠—

Screw him.

TWELVE

MAX <3

2 WEEKS LATER

Victoria: Thank you

Maxim: For?

Victoria: Honest question - do you have cameras on me?

Maxim: What? No хаха

Victoria: Then how do you always know when I need help?

Maxim: I have PEOPLE watching you, katyonok. Not cameras.

Maxim: Granted, that might not seem much better, but it’s only when you’re in public. Nothing private

Victoria: Then how did you know?

Maxim: About?

Victoria: Maxim!

Victoria: You know what I’m talking about

Maxim: Your eyes when you were dancing with him.

*Maxim sends a picture*

Maxim: Does this honestly look like a happy woman?