Devil's Prey(18)

That stopped me in my tracks as I stepped back a few feet to put some distance between us. "Why would Dimitri do that?"

"You can't possibly be that naïve, not after the life you've lived.  You're not goin' to try to convince me this is a love match, are ya? I'm  not stupid. You're doin' somethin' for 'em and that bastard is famous  for . . . cuttin' loose ends, so to speak." His blue-green eyes glared  at me with a pained look on his face. "You can't trust Max anymore than  you can trust his mentor. If he has no feelings for you then he will do  what he's told like a good soldier. I only hope you're able to have the  effect on him as you do most men."

I chuckled as I shook my head with amusement. "Come on, Edward. You're  making me sound like a femme fatale and we both know I'm certainly not  that."

Even as I turned and started to walk away, I could still hear his voice  as he said, "Oh, but you are . . . you're a drop dead gorgeous bitch  with a tattered soul and a beautiful body made for sin. In fact, you  shouldn't be scared of them-come to think of it-they should be terrified  of you. If I have learned anything about life, there's nothing more  frightening or dangerous than a woman scorned."         

     



 





Chapter Eight





Maxwell





Max could barely hide how livid he actually was but when he walked out  of his bedroom, fresh from a shower and changed into clean clothes, Mags  was no where to be found.

At first he panicked. She could have just gotten into the Mini Cooper he  gave her and drove away. After all, she was free as bird and could  start a new life anywhere, obtain documentation and live a very happy  and carefree life as Jane Doe.

However, he didn't let his pride get the best of him and a part of him  innately understood she would be back. Like most mammals, she was a  creature of habit and she could never be satisfied living an everyday  existence. It wasn't in her-if it ever was-and now she'd gotten a taste  for violence, fear, excitement and living life on the edge, it wasn't  possible to tuck that all away and live a life most people dreamed of  being perfect.

The kind where nothing bad really happened, and ideally, one found the  man of their dreams, married, had their house in the suburbs, kids and a  family pet or two. Max couldn't imagine living that way ever and if he  truly knew Mags, neither could she.

Of course, he could have made it easy on himself and used the tracking  device he'd installed on the vehicle but where was the fun in that?  Besides, a part of him didn't want to know where she'd gone. Not only  did it give him legitimate plausible deniability but he didn't trust  Dimitri.

The man-the one he loved and hated above all-had given him his word he  wouldn't hurt Mags but Max had heard it all before and knew his word was  as good as the average sociopath. He tried to come across as being as  cold and heartless as his boss but he simply didn't have the skills  inside him.

He hadn't grown up in the streets of St. Petersburg, homeless at a young  age, or alone like Dimitri. Max's childhood had been filled with love  and laughter. He sometimes remembered his mother crying but it wasn't  because of him. She only felt bad about the loved ones she'd been forced  to leave behind. The man she did love though she allowed him to believe  his feelings for her were unrequited. The child they shared she'd given  up in exchange for having at least one to call her own.

Everything changed when his mother met Dimitri and he introduced her to a  world of wealth and desire beyond her wildest dreams. He wasn't exactly  thrilled she had a son but his mother had always been good weaving the  perfect lie and by the time she'd sank her claws into the man who would  eventually become his stepfather, Dimitri couldn't imagine his life  without them.

After all this time, the thought of a rumor floating around Dimitri had  killed his first wife and their two sons plagued him with a sense of  foreboding. Not because he couldn't believe they weren't true but  because he suspected the man was as guilty as sin.

Dimitri was a man who would get rid of any one and anything standing in  the way of his lust for more power, domination and control. No one was  safe from his wrath. That alone had him questioning everything he'd done  in the name of expanding the Koslakov Mafia Empire. Instead of dwelling  on it, he allowed the thought to quietly slip into a hidden corner of  his mind.

Cooking had always been a carefully concealed passion and it soothed him  the way most artists were relaxed by doing what they did best. He made  orzo pasta with chicken broth, prawns, scallops, chopped zucchini, red  bell peppers, and red onions with a fresh lemon zest and olive oil  drizzle to go on top. Of course it was more than enough for two people  but he didn't stop there.

He also made fresh water salmon, which he baked in the oven, and  marinated with molasses, olive oil and sea salt. By the time Mags  returned, the whole house smelled heavenly as he prepared a pitcher of  fresh sangria using Sauvignon Blanc wine, apple-flavored vodka, fresh  pomegranate juice and thin slices of Anjou pears.

Mags walked into the kitchen and looked around at the feast prepared  before her in absolute shock. "Good evening to you too. If I knew my  going away for a few hours would illicit such an expression of  overwhelming emotion and food, I would have left a long time ago."

Max busied himself with setting the table. "I thought perhaps you'd  decided not to keep your end of the bargain. That you wanted nothing to  do with a plan that has been cultivated for years."

She strode toward him before she stopped a few feet away. "No, that's  not why I left. I had to take care of some personal business but I'm  sorry if you were worried about me-believe me, that wasn't my  intention."

His aquamarine eyes glared at her with a mixture of cool condescension  and detachment. "Why would I care what you do with your time, Magnolia?  If you want to screw half the neighborhood, by all means, go ahead and  do it. However, I must insist you be discreet."         

     



 

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish struggling to breathe. "Is that  what you think I was doing? Fucking a man? Sorry but my hormones don't  rule my body anymore than they rule yours. Besides, why would I do that  when I have a perfectly capable man in the house who can cook?"

Max finished setting the table and stood before he turned toward her.  "You mean you don't know how to cook," he said in a voice reeking of  sarcasm.

Mags rolled her eyes. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do know how to cook .  . . food and meth. Serra wasn't exactly domestic and I put meals on the  table more often than not. I even know some gourmet recipes but the  Deckers weren't that kind of family. They wanted the basics-steak, fried  chicken, mash potatoes, corn, peas-you get the idea."

Max struggled to maintain his composure as he began to transfer the food  to the table and she began to help without him asking her. "Exactly  what kind of people would teach a young woman to cook meth?"

"The kind who make a lot of money off selling the drug." She smiled  facetiously before she sat down across from him. "It's not a big deal. I  was pretty good at it but I was always scared I would have an accident.  It's dangerous-under the most ideal conditions. My worst nightmare was  being horribly disfigured or blowing myself up. I rather liked cooking  in the conventional sense and there were other jobs that needed to be  done around the place so I didn't do it for very long."

Max poured them both generous glasses of sangria. "You've lived a very  interesting life and yet . . . there is still so much I don't know about  you."

Mags smiled after she served herself a hearty helping of orzo and  salmon. "Well, you've lived longer than me and I know nothing about you.  Why don't we try to get to know one another and maybe we can fill each  other in on the gaps."

He breathed deeply as he speared a piece of salmon and placed it in his  mouth. "My life only seems interesting because of the mysterious nature  surrounding it. Believe me, if you knew everything about me, you  wouldn't find me fascinating at all."

She swigged from her sangria after she'd tasted the orzo. "I'm sorry but  if that is your way of convincing me your life has been anything other  than unconventional, you've failed entirely. I think you want me to find  you rather boring because then I won't learn anything about you and I  won't ever become curious enough to ask."

Max set his napkin down and drained his sangria before he poured himself  another glassful. "Go ahead, you can ask questions about my past."

"How long have you worked for Dimitri?"

"A very long time. The man is like a father to me. I've spent most of my  life with him and I know him as well . . . as he can be known."

Mags bit her lower lip lightly before she continued, "Were you supposed to murder me after we completed our mission?"