British Bratva Read online

  He was like a man possessed and I knew it was me he was possessed by. Nothing in the world could have been better.

  Every thrust in made me see stars. I breathed when he breathed, my hips knew when to rise to meet him, and the heat that he rose through me brought sweat to my skin.

  We were so in tune we didn't need to say a thing. Looking into his eyes I knew exactly when he was close to coming. I could read the tension running through him and the way his breathing hitched.

  "Yes, oh God, Maxim, yes."

  I felt myself clench around him, muscles fluttering and tightening as my orgasm exploded through me, and another hit as I felt him come inside me, filling me up with his cum. My body clung on tighter, like it never wanted to let him go, milking him for all he was worth.

  I couldn't catch my breath, and I was shaking when he dropped down on top of me, needing to hold him.

  He didn't move for a long, long time and I loved that he didn't pull out. I didn't want him to, not until he shrank back down and gravity did it for him.

  "I love you, Elizabeth."

  "I love you too Max. So much you don't even know."

  Maxim

  In the cramped living room of the apartment I used to live in, I set up my laptop on the glass coffee table, on top of a stack of books to keep it from chinking against the glass every time the train went past the window.

  Elizabeth slid onto the sofa next to me as I fired up Skype, as gorgeous as ever, back in the clothes she'd dressed in for the raid. I didn't know which I preferred more, seeing her in spotless, pristine cotton, or head to toe black to match me.

  Whatever she was wearing, I didn't think I'd ever get over the gut-deep need to pull her close to me and kiss her hard enough to start something every time she came into a room.

  She batted me away with a playful smile. "Max… we only just got out of bed."

  "We haven't christened the couch."

  "That's true." She let out a luxurious hum, as though she was thinking about it. Really thinking about it. The idea of taking her again made my cock twitch. I was never going to get enough of being inside her. "I thought we needed to speak to Valentin."

  We did. We had a lot to update my boss with. I let out a grumble, forcing myself away from her. "Have I told you how much I hate it when you're right about things like that."

  Elizabeth laughed and shifted to curl her feet up onto the couch, next to me. "Maybe once or twice. But the sooner we talk to him, the sooner he can okay me and then we can go back to doing whatever we want to be doing…"

  Her sly little smile could have slayed me.

  "Have I told you lately how impossibly sexy you are?"

  I loved the flush that raced over Elizabeth's cheeks and the way she smiled, almost awkward, still not quite believing what I told her. One day, she'd have no doubt, I'd make sure of it.

  With a sigh, I put the call through to Valentin.

  "We have the pendrive," I informed him as soon as the line opened out, and his broad grin flashed, almost devilish as he leaned in closer.

  "Excellent. You're sure she didn't have a copy elsewhere?"

  "We took the paper copy. Pierce was very explicit in his cover notes that this was not to be uploaded onto anything that could connect to the internet. He was really quite paranoid."

  "Wisely so. Very good Maxim. And this… is Yelizaveta I assume?"

  Elizabeth looked momentarily confused and Valentin laughed, deep and throaty. "It's Elizabeth in Russian. You have defected now, have you not?"

  Elizabeth's eyes darted to me and I gave a minute nod. She looked back to the screen. "I suppose I have. It's nice to meet you Mr Rozhkov."

  "Valentin, please. We are all family in the Bratva. And family helps each other out, isn't that right, Maxim?"

  "It is. And Elizabeth has done us proud. You should have seen her. You'd have been impressed."

  Valentin rose a brow. "I'll have to take your word for it." His eyes shifted. "Maxim's word is his vow, so I'm sure you were quite spectacular."

  "She was." And I had a stubborn need to make him see that, make him admit it.

  Valentin cleared his throat. "Do you have any progress on Pierce's locker?"

  "This was a little more time sensitive."

  "So you're telling me no?"

  Annoyed, I grimaced. "Where would you have us look? The station was a bust. We're out of leads."

  Elizabeth had been quiet and a frown to rival Valentin's was forged across her face. "You're the one who's been following him all this time. Where else did he go?"

  I stared at her, surprised that she'd decided to side with Valentin instead of supporting me.

  "Nowhere else. The man was a bloody bore. Same place for lunch every single time. Same cafe, same wine bar, same pub. Home, the publisher's, the library. That's it."

  Elizabeth looked at me and smoothed her hand over my knee. "The British Library? That's right next to the station. They have lockers there."

  I tilted my head. I'd been doing this a long time now. It was very rarely ever that simple. "I really don't think-"

  But Valentin was already in cahoots. "Yes. That makes sense. Maxim, you should listen to the lady. Go to the library."

  I let out a slow breath, irritated by the pair of them. "Of course. Absolutely, anything you say."

  Valentin's wolfish grin took over the screen. "That has a good ring to it, Maxim. Usually you do whatever you want."

  "Usually I get the job done."

  "Usually you do. I have no complaints. But maybe it's worth checking? Elizabeth knew the man best, no?"

  That, I couldn't argue with. And there was no part of me that wanted to when she folded her arms across her chest and rose one fine brow at me. The pair of them were a dangerous combination.

  "Fine. Your wish is my command. We'll go and see what's there."

  CHAPTER 26

  Elizabeth

  I looked back over my shoulder at Maxim with a smile as the key slid into the lock of the luggage locker in the cloakroom of the British Library. The stark red brick exterior was exaggeratedly large and brutalist in comparison to the Victorian Gothic spires and layers of St Pancras station, in the same red brick, just next door. The tall square gate opened into the entrance courtyard, set out architecturally with manicured grass and a large bronze figure. It might have been an ancient institution, but this building wasn't.

  I'd expected fusty lines of books, and a dozen other men just like Sutherland, but that wasn't what we found at all.

  There was an exhibition space and a ticket desk, and that side was carefully controlled, all modern and white and it was clear you couldn't just wander right in. The books were somewhere else in the building.

  The lockers, thankfully, were in another area. I had the key in my hand, and the one we were looking for was a half-size, square fronted locker, right in the far corner. I knew it was the one Sutherland would have picked as soon as I saw it. I think Maxim must have known too, because he let out a low grumble.

  I couldn't resist looking back at him once I felt the key start to turn in the lock, triumph flaring in my eyes. Maxim didn't say a word.

  I swung the door open, and there in the middle of the metal floor, was a small note book, the kind that came with wide lines or squared paper on the inside, made for making notes in school. It was very slim. Maxim probably wouldn't have noticed him leaving it here if he was coming and going with lots of other things. It was slim enough, that when it was lying flat, you had to be really close to see it there.

  I snatched it up, feeling the thud of my heart against the inside of my chest. This could be exactly what Maxim needed.

  Flicking open the cover, I saw a list of phone numbers, and a list of names.

  Maxim leaned in over my shoulder as I stood up, and he snapped the exercise book closed in my grasp.

  "Is that them?"

  "I don't know."

  "Why would he have phone numbers?

  "I don't know, Elizabeth. Here is not
the place to try and figure it out."

  I frowned at him. Here was exactly the place to figure it out. We had every resource at our fingertips that Sutherland had used to get what he had found.

  "Maxim, what's going on?"

  "You look at them, I have to kill you. This isn't your job. You don't work for my people. Right now, you're on the other side."

  His face was serious enough that I knew he wasn't joking.

  "But I want to help you."

  "I know that. Valentin knows that. But it's better you don't get too involved while it's still so close to home. We can't prove your loyalty yet."

  "So you're not even going to give me a chance?" I kept my voice low, and I followed him as we started to walk back out of the building.

  "I think I don't know what I'd do if someone on my side decided you knew too much."

  I gritted my teeth. "It's not going to happen. You can't think like that. Valentin likes me."

  "Valentin isn't in charge. The Kremlin's muddled up in this. It's bigger than just us."

  "Well, then you've got to let me help get rid of the threat."

  "It's not your job, Elizabeth."

  "Right now, I don't have a job, because if I show up and my step father doesn't people are going to start to asking questions about where he is, and we both know I can't answer those without getting arrested."

  He glared at me. "I told you, I'm going to get you out. Keep you safe."

  I nodded. "I know. So in the meantime, I can help you, can't I? Where's the harm in that?"

  Maxim growled low and I ignored him. "Where do you think he got those numbers from? Is your guy even on that list?"

  Maxim flipped the front cover open, shielding the page from my view and he scanned down the list. "No. None of these people are Russian."

  "What? Are they all Saudi Princes or something?"

  "Not unless they changed their names." The breath he let out sounded irritated. "This isn't the list." He flipped a few pages frown drawing in, and I tried to look at what he was reading, but he held the pages well out of my view.

  "It must be important. He wouldn't have gone to so many lengths to hide it if it wasn't important."

  Maxim's frown had set in, and it didn't come close to getting any lighter. "Agreed."

  "Contacts?" I asked as we exited through the automatic doors. Maxim had a tightness about his stride that hadn't been there on the way in, and as he walked I could tell he was looking far ahead of where we were, scoping out the possible threats in the group of tourists ahead of us, the students loitering with coffee cups in the middle of the quadrangle.

  We walked over to the bronze sculpture.

  "I think so, yes. The rest of the book is financial transactions. Account numbers. Sutherland must have been meeting someone here."

  "Account numbers? You mean someone was feeding him information about who was shifting money around?"

  "That's exactly what I'm saying."

  "But who could know that?"

  Maxim's jaw rippled. "We're looking for a fund manager who handles offshore accounts. Or rather, four of them. I'm pretty sure that's where those phone numbers will lead us."

  I swallowed, suddenly feeling the need to look over my shoulder to check out the groups loitering near the entrance myself. Maxim was saying Sutherland had found people willing to whistle blow. Someone had helped him

  Everything I'd been taught growing up told me that was a good thing, but I knew Maxim's perspective was different. His only priority was towards his organisation. To the Bratva. And these people who'd betrayed their trust were going to have to pay. Or at the very least, be silenced, and removed from the equation.

  I swallowed hard.

  "What happens now?"

  "Don't ask me that, Elizabeth. You already know what my job is. Are you in?"

  I stared at him, feeling the weight of his question. If I said no, I had to walk away and never see him again. If I said yes, my life was going to be violence and murder and never knowing that I was truly in the right ever again. Maxim had made his peace with that, knowing that his loyalty was to his homeland and his brethren. I didn't have that connection, that justification.

  I felt my jaw hinge open without any idea what words I wanted to shape my lips around and I swallowed again, buying time. "I don't - I don't know."

  Maxim nodded, short and tight, and he got abruptly to his feet.

  "Where are you going?"

  "Home. I have to debrief. Find out where this trail leads. Chances are tomorrow we get to the end of all the breadcrumbs."

  "Where do you think they lead?"

  "I don't know yet. Look, take your time. Think about it. Walk away if you have to. Just don't come back, because if you leave me any hope, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth rather than letting you go."

  My heart clenched, and I reached out, my hand around his muscled forearm.

  "Yes."

  "What?"

  "I don't need to think about it, Maxim. I'm with you. I've always been with you. Nothing's going to change that."

  He pulled me in against him, and his mouth closed over mine. I groaned as I felt him harden against me, and I kissed him back until my lips felt swollen and bruised.

  There wasn't anywhere I wanted to be that wasn't by his side, and if that meant living the life he did, then so be it. I could do it. I'd already killed once, and Maxim could teach me how to kill again. I could learn all he had to teach me and I could be useful to him. Together, we could be a formidable pair. That was the life I wanted.

  CHAPTER 27

  Maxim

  We fell into an easy enough rhythm. I was more comfortable away from Knightsbridge and in Greenwich I could better control the environment. I knew my neighbors here better than I knew the Russian elite and sheiks neighboring the Bratva's flat.

  I kept my old Kawasaki ZZR1100 out on the street, under a waterproof cover without any harm ever coming to it. Around here they knew better. They knew what would befall whoever messed with my bike and no one wanted to deal with the consequences.

  While we waited for Valentin to send through information on the names Sutherland had kept locked away in his notebook, we had some down time. I knew well enough how rare that was and I was set on enjoying it.

  Elizabeth watched me making potato salad with a slow smile on her face. "I never thought you'd be so domestic."

  I shrugged. "I like to eat. There's no one else to make it for me."

  She leaned in and stole one of the baby new potatoes from the bowl where they were steaming. "Mm. That's why I taught myself to cook too."

  We might have come from different worlds, but the pair of us had more in common than I could have ever realised. We might have both come from a tough start, but it didn't have to be that way any longer. "And now we can cook for each other."

  I packed up the picnic into a rucksack, slipping a champagne bottle into the bag while Elizabeth was fetching her things. Wrapped in wet newspaper and put into the freezer for a few hours, it would hold its chill until we got to Greenwich park.

  Down in the parking lot, I uncovered my bike and took the padlock off the chain. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and I knew she was impressed.

  "I need to get my licence," she said a little wistfully and I grinned.

  "After the job's over, I'll teach you. And then maybe I'll even let you have a go."

  "You better."

  I handed her the rucksack and she climbed on behind me. There was nothing better than feeling her shift forward and cling on tight. I'd never get tired of that.

  I roared us along the main road, away from the river, further south. The park stretched from the Maritime Museum and Observatory with it's long, collonaded facade, up the hill in a green swathe.

  The grass was teaming with other couples and young family groups, all with the same idea, picnics set out on blankets enjoying the sunshine while it lasted.

  In true London fashion all the locals had stripped down to shorts at the first
sign of blue sky, women in strappy tops and sundresses, men in wife-beaters or t-shirts. The tourists from mainland Europe and other, warmer, parts of the world were recognisable for their refusal to take off their extra layers and pretend that the temperature was anywhere close to what they considered hot.

  Little did they know how much of a gamble an English summer could be. When you saw sun, you had to dive right in with all due enthusiasm, because you never knew whether you were in for four days of clement, cloudlessness, a three week heatwave causing water shortages and the deaths of pensioners, or non-stop rain through to December.

  Elizabeth helped me unfold the blanket out in a patch of dappled shade from the broad arms of a plane tree and she sat down, folding her legs under her as I unpacked the food.

  I couldn't keep my eyes off her. She was so perfect. All I wanted was to spend the rest of my life knowing that there were as many days like this ahead of us as we wanted.

  "Champagne?" Elizabeth's smile widened as I pulled the newspaper off the bottle and she shook her head at me. "I'm beginning to wonder whether you drink anything else, Max."

  I shrugged, uncaging the cork. She let out a little shout and a giggle as I popped the cork up into the air and let some of the bubbles flood over the side with just as much pent up excitement as I always had for her.

  "I also drink vodka, of course. And I don't say no to a good scotch, or an armagnac. But you have to have champagne with caviar. It's the done thing, love."

  "Caviar? Oh, is it indeed."

  "It is. You can't start calling yourself Russian if you've never had the real stuff." I handed her a glass and fished into the rucksack for the little pot of caviar I'd picked up from the delicatessen the day before.

  "To us," Elizabeth announced, smile glinting as she touched her glass to mine.

  "To us. The very best people in the world."

  Elizabeth stretch out luxuriously and I thought she looked like she'd stepped right out of Hollywood blockbuster. She could have dominated the screen, sold a million magazines, if that was what she wanted out of life. Between us, we probably had the contacts to make that happen in the Bratva. But she was here with me, patting the blanket next to her to encourage me closer.