Page 135 of Bratva Jewels Box Set

Everything in me stills. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” he says, taking a sip of his champagne as those dark eyes flicker with amusement. “You have three guesses, and it has to be the right thing, not close not near enough, but the title.”

My heart quickens, my breath becomes shallow, he’s giving me a chance of freedom and I believe if I did guess correctly, hewould let me go. He seems like a man of his word as much as the devil can be believed.

“Three chances and you’ll let me go. If I guess correctly.”

“Yes.”

“How do I know I’ve guessed correctly,” I question him.

Maxim gets up, opens his phone, types something into it, and then closes it again. “I wrote it in my notes. As soon as your guesses are over, I’ll show you.”

Okay. I’m going to have to trust him. This gift is too good to let go.

“You ready?” he asks with a grin.

Taking a deep breath, I try to calm my mind because every part of me is as tight as a curled spring, and I want to make sure that I’m in this with a chance. He works for the Bratva, of that I’m sure, but what as? I try to think about the conversations Sophie and Brooks have had about the structure of the Bratva but when I try to recall it there’s nothing but an empty void. Dammit. I should have paid more attention when they were talking about it, but instead, I chose to implode on myself and lock my mind away in a haze of drugs. Is he high up? Maybe not because it seems like he is working for Dmitri.

“Are you a transporter for the Bratva?” I ask nervously.

He shakes his head.

Shit.

I thought that would be it. I remember hearing someone talking about transporters, men who would grab women and take them across borders. I swear that was what Maxim was doing as that is what he has done with me, taken me from Spain and transported me to Italy.

Okay, two more guesses.

Think, Gracie, think. Why would he kidnap me then? Is he a finder? Someone who finds things that others can’t. What the hell would that be called then?

“Are you an associate to the Bratva? Your job is to find things for them that can’t be found.”

Maxim raises a brow, and a small smile falls across his face. “Warm but still cold.”

Shit.

I’m close but not at the same time. Talk about a mindfuck. This is my last guess. My life rides on this answer. You need to think, Grace. Go back and search your mind for anything you could possibly find that would reveal who Maxim is. He said that no one leaves this villa alive. Many people have tried to escape, but none do. He talked about chaining me up in his cellar like he does others. He said on the boat something about me having bigger balls than the baddest men in the mafia. My mind is turning up blanks, I don’t know. I can feel the fear creep up over my skin, and my chest tightens as the thought of freedom begins to slip between my fingers.

“Are you an enforcer for the Bratva?” That’s my final answer, and in all honesty, it is the only job I can think of that would come close to the tiny bits of information he has given me.

Maxim shakes his head.

I was wrong.

No. I was so close, freedom was at the edge of my fingertips. My shoulders slump as my body decides to give up. I can’t put on this charade any longer as a single tear falls down my cheek. I don’t have the energy to even wipe it away. With a shaky hand, I reach out and throw back the last of my champagne. It tastes bitter against my lips as the bubbles make my stomach turn.

Maxim grabs his phone and opens it. His fingers slide across the screen until he turns it around and slides it toward me.

Assassin/Hitman

Is written across the screen. Reading the words has me recoiling in my seat as I move away from him. My heart is thumping in my chest as my hands become clammy.

“I’m so screwed, aren’t I?”

The waiter enters the dining room at the worst possible moment. He places a beautiful meal of steak and vegetables before me. The delicious smell five minutes ago would have had my mouth watering, but now has my stomach recoiling. He takes one look at Maxim, and for the first time tonight he looks at me, and his face pales before he scurries out of the dining room as if his life depended on it. It probably does, seeing as Maxim is a hitman. His job is to kill people. Bad people. Maybe some good people in there too. Whoever the Bratva want dead, Maxim facilitates it.

Does that mean?