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Devil's Prey(31)

By:S. E. Chardou


She glared at him as if he were the devil before she slapped him across his face with a quick hand.

His blue-green eyes hardened before he backhanded her across the face,  his expression unchanged. "Don't you ever touch me again, not if you  want to make it out this vehicle alive. I remember exactly what you and  that animal you call your husband did to me and believe me, I will seek  my long awaited revenge against you as opposed to Sean and Edward."

A look of fear and attempted horror passed across her Botoxed features.  "That was never negotiable. It was part of the contract you agreed to  when you began working with Dimitri. You have to take your father and  brother out-no exceptions."

The silence between them was so thick it could've been cut with a butter knife.

Max smirked, more than happy to make his mother suffer just a little  bit. "What do you know? I'm starting to have second thoughts about  whether I should hurt Edward or Sean, let alone kill them. My bone to  pick isn't with them but with you . . . and the monster you married."





Chapter Fifteen





Magnolia





I didn't like the way this night was beginning to turn out at all.

Of course I trusted Max; at this juncture in my life after knowing him  for such a short time, I never thought I'd ever get to this point but  I'd arrived.

I wasn't ready to say I loved him without further prompting on his part  but I could unequivocally say-without a doubt-I trusted him with my  life.

His mother, on the other hand, was a heartless bitch who would  manipulate Max if she were given the opportunity. I could only hope she  didn't have the hold over Max she seemed to have in the past.         

     



 

My heart thundered in my chest as I followed the Porsche Cayenne back to  the ostentatious estate where Mila was kept like a Queen in her own  palace. We were basically walking into a trap. The chances of us  escaping from this gilded cage unscathed were slim to none.

I could only prepare myself as I grabbed the matching Desert Eagle .45  Undercover Max had given to me. I checked the gun and chambered a round  before I checked for the three spare clips I had. Twenty-four bullets.  That didn't seem like nearly enough to get out of this place.

As soon as the Porsche parked, I pulled up next to it and grabbed my  handbag before I stepped out. I grabbed the keys but I didn't bother to  lock the door. What was the point when we had no idea how much time we'd  have before trying to escape this place?

The problem was I felt like every horrific episode from my  past-including the death of my parents, years with the WKs and meeting  Max had all led up to this point in my life. This standoff between the  man I knew I had feelings for-though I wouldn't dare admit I loved  him-and the woman who'd damn near destroyed him.

I refused to believe Max was damaged and needed my help to become a  better person. Nothing was ever black and white. I'd rather believe both  Max and I could help each other heal ourselves.

People didn't truly change and once we'd had our DNA imprinted on us and  life experiences that molded with nature, our personalities were set in  stone. I knew I couldn't change Max anymore than he could change me but  we would make each other better human beings. We still had a shred of  our humanity and if we had that then nothing else mattered.

I strode towards Max and the woman who'd carried him for nine months and  birthed him into the world. With her long, fake platinum-blonde hair,  plastic face and the body of a twenty-year-old, there was nothing about  her that was real at all. Not even the slight look of contrition she  tried to feign but failed miserably due to only the slight movements she  could make with her face.

He wrapped an arm around me protectively as soon as I was within his  reach before we followed her inside. Her sheer arrogance and  fearlessness could be forgiven since as soon as we entered the grand  foyer, several soldiers from the Koslakov Mafia appeared out of nowhere,  including that 'roid-raged fucker I knew only as Viktor.

"Mila, what's going on?" he demanded as he walked towards us with an air of authority.

"Viktor, I need some time alone with my son. We'll be in the library but  no one is to enter without my permission. Feel free to guard the doors  with the rest of your minions," she replied with utter condescension as  she led us through the foyer and past rooms decorated with antique  furniture, Persian rugs, and sparkling works of art by all the greats  over the last two hundred years.

"Holy shit! Is that a Basquiat?" I whispered to Max as we passed a  colorfully grand painting that looked like the love child of a Jackson  Pollock and a blue-period Picasso.

"Yes, it is. I knew the man and we had a casual relationship when I was  eighteen, a couple of years before he died. I loved him in my own way . .  . that painting was all he left me."

I looked at Max and he shrugged his shoulders. He would have been a  toddler at the time but it seemed like his mother made no apologies or  excuses about how she'd been around . . . and around . . . and around  again. Was there anyone notorious she hadn't fucked in her lifetime?

We followed her, flanked by soldiers until we reached a set of double  doors that opened to a grand library. She walked inside, Max and I  following her closely before Viktor leaned in and said something to Max  in Russian. He replied back in a cold voice as Viktor closed the doors.  Max flipped the lock and turned to face his mother.

She shrugged her shoulders. "What did you expect? Of course Viktor is  going to inform Dimitri you two are here. It will make it more  convincing when you escape. I can help you with that too but . . . if  you're only going to murder me then what is the use?"

He looked my way, his gorgeous aquamarine eyes unreadable as he shook his head slowly.

"God knows I want to do it." Max walked toward his mother who seemed so  small underneath his towering height. "I've dreamt of how I would end  you. Slit your throat, put a bullet in your head. Alas . . . perhaps  it's just everything is different now. I have Mags to think about and  our life will be hard enough. I can't put her through that."

My eyes narrowed toward him as he stood with his back facing me. "How  did I get brought into this? I always said that if you couldn't do it  then I happily would! We can't die here, Max-I refuse to end my life in  this gaudy, overdone pseudo-palace. I haven't had a chance to live!"         

     



 

"And that is why we will leave Mila alive, sweetheart. I love you." Max  looked away as if he'd confessed he hated me. "It wasn't supposed to  happen but it did . . . maybe I realized it when we met and perhaps it's  why I did everything in my power so you would never feel anything for  me. I thought I could make it just go away if I tried hard enough and  you showed me nothing but venom and fury. I filled my head with lies  about how I would always be a substitute for Edward and you would only  see him in me-never me for who I truly was."

Mila laughed out loud before she murmured in Polish. "This slip of a  girl has managed to fuck both my sons and screw with their heads  entirely? How can this be?"

Max turned toward his mother. "You're not the only femme fatale in the  world, you know. Mags has skills you could only dream of-"

"Is she a good shot?" his mother asked seriously before a Ruger SR9  materialized in her left hand. It was a small nine-millimeter that made  it easy to be carried in a woman's handbag but powerful enough to do  major damage.

I heard the fire and I knew I was hit as I crumpled to the floor but the  pain in my right thigh forced me to stay in the moment. My whole body  felt like it was beyond my control as I started to froth at the mouth  and generally shook on the floor like an epileptic before my body seemed  to slowly return to normal. It hurt like a motherfucker but I refused  to cry. It hadn't hit bone, thank God, but it had pierced my flesh and  it would need to be treated.

"What the fuck?!" Max yelled frantically. "Why did you do that?"

"No is going to believe you got away from me if no one was injured. It  was an electric bullet for Christ's sake. They do damage and they enter  the skin but other than a scar, she'll be fine. It didn't even shatter  the bone. If you make me fire again, the rest of the bullets in this gun  aren't electric-I assure you."

I tried to sit up but there was no use. An electric bullet had taken me  down and made me piss myself? I was almost glad I hadn't done anything  else remotely embarrassing besides slobber all over the place along with  the inability to control my bladder functions.

"The money. So we can get the fuck outta here before we're trapped in this ostentatious hellhole indefinitely."

Mila rolled her eyes and walked away with Max on her heels.

Shortly afterward, I heard another gun shot-definitely one of  ours-before he came running toward me and scooped me up as if I weighed  nothing.

Max dragged a Louis Vuitton wheeled carryon while he navigated us  through the library until we came to what looked like an ordinary set of  books. He pulled a hardback-Of Mice and Men-and the door swung open.  After the door shut behind us, he locked it from inside and we navigated  through a tunnel with minimal lighting.