14. Brody
brODY
Her eyes go wide, and she hesitates, like she’s wondering what I’m going to do and she’s not certain I meant it about a chase. I tug at my tie, and it slides off my neck, then I flick open the top button.
I absolutely meant it.
Fuck honour, and convention. Fuck the idea of giving her choices, as though I’m a polite British gentleman, and not a brutal Russian Bratva boss. What was I thinking? I’ve been spending too much time with the London Mafia Syndicate and their ridiculous, “Ask questions before murder” policy.
Fuck our age difference, and the fact she’s a sunny little angel to my murderous darkness. Fuck the mafia responsibilities that kept me from her. Even fuck the rest of my revenge against the mafia who hurt her, if the price would be that she ever felt unwanted again. I allowed that insecurity to grown in her, when I should have been claiming her as my own and covering her with my seed day and night.
“Aren’t you going to escape?” I taunt her. “You’ve been saying you want to leave. This is your last chance. Run.” I keep my expression unreadable as I shrug off my suit jacket and flick off my cufflinks, allowing them to drop onto the growing pile of clothes at my feet. It doesn’t matter. There’s no one here but her and me. “I’ll catch you either way.”
Then her shoulders go back and the little fighter I know is there emerges. I smile as she turns on her heel and runs fast.
Adrenaline surges in me as I strip off my shirt. My shoes are utterly unsuitable for this activity, being leather and shiny, but it’s irrelevant. I’ll still win. Because what my girl doesn’t realise is that I love her far too much to allow her to escape.
I finish the countdown in my head.
“I’m coming for you, Caterina,” I call, then listen intently.
I hear light steps on the left side of the maze. She’s soft pawed. Setting off at a run, I twist and turn through the paths. It’s shadowed, and the bright sunlight and dark-green hedges make my fucking ancient eyes slow to adjust.
I can’t quite figure out which route she took, so I pause.
“Little ca-at,” I sing-song. “Where are you?”
She huffs a laugh. “As if I’d tell you.”
My head flicks to the side. “Interesting. You’re further through than I expected. Quick.”
There’s a muffled curse. “I won’t be revealing my location again, Brody.”
But she redoubles her pace, and I can hear her feet hit the compacted gravel harder now. It’s too easy to lope through the maze after her. The scent of the box hedges is mixed with lavender and rosemary from the herb garden to the side, and I wonder if she can smell it too.
It’s the sweet essence of home.
This will be where we live together, at least some of the time. Where we’ll raise our children and grow our influence.
Her steps halt, and there’s the gritty sound of her feet twisting on the ground as she backtracks out of a dead end. The plan of the maze clear in my mind, I calculate where I think she is. Just a couple of hedgerows separate us, though I need to go around several loops to get to her.
“Moya koshechka.”
She yelps with shock at how close I sound, and I chuckle.
“I’m getting to the middle first, Brody.”
I hum thoughtfully as I speed up to a run, gaining on her even as I’m further away.
“Where are you?” she mutters.
“Don’t worry, I’m coming for you.” I accelerate, closing on her. “Enjoy your last taste of freedom, trapped in my maze, Caterina. Because when I catch you…”
She gasps.
“You’re mine.”