British Bratva by Flora Ferrari

Author:Flora Ferrari [Ferrari, Flora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-28T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

Maxim

Elizabeth levered up on her elbows, blinking at me blearily from the bed as I pulled my jeans on and ducked into a clean t-shirt that I pulled out of my drawer.

I leaned over to kiss her. "Make yourself at home, I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"Nothing in here to eat, sweetheart. I'm going hunter-gathering."

Elizabeth snorted a laugh and shook her head. "I don't think it counts as hunter-gathering when you really mean going to Waitrose."

"The cheek of it. See, I was going to pick you up a coffee, now I don't know."

"You better. You wouldn't like me when I'm hangry."

I let out a grumble as I forced myself away from the bed, out into the hall, where I pocketed my wallet and keys and shrugged into my jacket.

It was the perfect morning. The sun was peeking out from between the clouds, and everything felt fresh and clean from the rain that must have come in the night sometime when we were sleeping, or maybe before that, when I was making Elizabeth mine.

I felt brand new. Strolling down the street, I could have been anyone. I wasn't just part of the Bratva when I was with her. But I didn't have to hide that part of myself off either. It was intoxicating, knowing that she knew exactly what I was, and wanted the whole package.

I'd always assumed having a woman close to me, starting a family, would mean I'd need to leave it all behind, or keep secrets in a way I never wanted to. I always told colleagues and friends that there was no way I was ever settling down. No one would fit into my life, at least no one I wanted. But that wasn't true any longer. Elizabeth changed everything.

Being on the alert came naturally to me after so many years, and I identified the two men tailing me when I turned onto Brompton Road. Hair cuts were too regulated, too Russian. They had FSB written all over them from their hulking awkwardness in off-the-rack suits, to the way they stalked along the pavement, too militarised in their movements, too obviously aware of their surroundings. They walked the same way they did when they had on full body armour, in the middle of Moscow, carrying Pecheneg machine guns just to let the public know they were armed.

From the badly hidden bulges at holster level on the jackets of both men, I figured they had been downgraded to the standard Glock 17’s today. If you knew what to look for, all that spelled out Alpha Unit. And I did know what to look for.

They stuck out to me as clearly as if they'd been dressed in dayglo. The last thing I wanted was to disrupt my plans to figure out why they were sniffing around me. Elizabeth was naked in my bed. Not even the FSB was going to keep me from getting back home to her.

I ducked into Harrods, picking up my pace to power

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