Page 158 of Bratva Jewels Box Set

“I’m not going to tell you until you’re home.”

That sounds serious. “Is Grace, okay?”

“Yes, the girl is fine,” he answers, irritated which is strange because he was Team Grace all the way before I left.

“Has something happened between the two of you?”

“This can’t be discussed over the phone.”

This does not sound good. I weave in and out of Florence’s traffic.

“I’ll be home in less than an hour.”

“Good ...” Then his voice dissolves into static.

“What did you say?”

Nothing but static greets me and then thebeep, beep, beepof a disconnected call. Fuck. I try and reconnect to Sergei, but it doesn’t connect. What the hell has been going on since I’ve been gone? I guess a lot of shit can happen in a week. I’m so distracted by what is going on between Sergei and Grace that I haven’t noticed I’m being followed out of Florence along the SS741 until it's right on my ass.

Fuck!

I try to swerve, but there’s another car on my side. That’s when I notice the SUV beside me is coming over while the car behind me has moved around to the other side. They are trying to box me in, motherfuckers. I press my foot to the floor, thankfully, I’m in a sports car, and it takes off. But the cars are still following me. Fuckers.

My phone rings again, and Sergei’s name pops up on the dash.

“Sergei, I’m being followed!”

“Fuck. I’m on it.” He hangs up understanding the protocol. He will be logging into the car’s GPS tracker to check where I am as well as all the rear cameras on the car to get a visual on who these assholes are so that I make sure I make them pay.

A bullet shatters the back window. Fuckers. I love this car. I pull open the glove box and grab my Glock handgun. Even though shooting and driving is a little more complicated than itseems in the movies, I take a look in the rearview mirror and aim through the shattered back window, taking out the passenger in the van, which makes the driver swerve. The other SUV is beside me, and I can see the passenger aiming their gun at me through my tinted windows. I step on the gas and lower my window down a fraction enough for me to fit the end of my gun through without shattering the glass. I shoot through the gap and take out the passenger in the second SUV.

Oh, shit.

Next thing I know, I’m staring at the barrel of a gun of a second passenger that I never saw. I suck in a deep breath because I know this is going to sting. My reaction time isn’t as quick from the first passenger to this next one, and I know they are going to get a lucky shot in.

They pull the trigger moments before I do and the bullet crashes through the driver’s window and imbeds itself in my shoulder. Thankfully, I was able to take out their driver with mine, and they end up crashing into the concrete barriers of the highway. They are not ever going to see the light of day again.

“Motherfucker,” I grunt, taking off the tie I still have on as my charade as a businessman and wrap it around my shoulder, using my teeth to fasten it. At least it will stop the bleeding, and I won’t pass out till I get home. I press my foot to the floor and pray that speed will lose anyone else following me.

I weave in and out of the little towns along the highway, checking for them for the next thirty minutes and I don’t see anyone, thank fuck. It’s not long till the exit for my villa is coming up and the relief I feel at seeing the discreet entrance is invaluable. Squinting, I can see the villa on the horizon as my adrenaline begins to subside and my arm starts to throb like a bitch. Ten minutes later, I’m pulling up out the front of my villa where Sergei rushes out to meet me. Hot on his heels is Grace. My breath hitches as I take her in. It’s been a week but feels likea lifetime since I’ve seen her. She looks too thin, her face is pale, and there seems to be a deep scowl pulled across her brows, but she still looks like the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Good to see you, old man.” I chuckle as Sergei opens the car door for me. He leans down, and I use him as a crutch to get out of the car.

Grace gasps. “Oh my god, Max, you’ve been shot!”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Wildcat.”

“Let’s get you inside and sorted out,” Sergei says calmly as we make our way into the kitchen. Hopefully, the staff have all left, which is protocol. I jump up onto the large stainless steel island counter and lay down as Sergei grabs a knife and starts slashing my clothes from my body.

“What can I do? Please, let me help.” Grace follows us into the kitchen, her green eyes wide with fright.

“Get a bottle of whiskey, he’s going to need it,” Sergei says.

“Close call, hey?” he says to me once Grace has left the kitchen.

“Yeah, and they were hard to get rid of as well,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Italian Mafia, slippery little suckers.” Sergei smiles at me as he