British Bratva

by Flora Ferrari

  I opened the little pot and dished a little out onto the part of my hand where you'd usually put the salt for a tequila shot.

  "The secret," I told her, "with Caviar, is that it always tastes so much better when it's eaten off a lover's skin."

  Elizabeth's smile turned dangerous, wolfish, and she sat up again, her eyes partially hooded as she leaned in closer, keeping her glass carefully upright.

  She never broke eye contact as she ducked her head to swoop the little salty eggs onto her tongue. "Like that?"

  "Just like that."

  "Mm. You should have saved this for the bedroom Maxim."

  "But it's such a beautiful day," I purred, handing the little pot over to her. "I would rather be out here, in the sunshine, lying down close to you."

  Elizabeth's cheeks flushed and she wiggled closer so that it was almost difficult to focus on her eyes. I couldn't understand how she'd accepted the life I was offering so easily, without question, but I saw without a doubt that there was nowhere else she would rather have been.

  I tried not to grimace as she stuck her finger into the caviar pot and scooped out a little. “Love, that's beluga. Give it some respect." The fleeting irritation passed when she smeared a little trail of the tiny dark beads along the line of her collar bone.

  So help me God, I was going to ravage her in a public park and get us both arrested for indecency. But I was bloody well going to enjoy every minute of it.

  Elizabeth

  There in the sunshine in the park, swapping kisses and snuggling close to Maxim on the blanket he'd brought, I felt like I was in some kind of daydream. A month ago I would have never imagined I'd be in love.

  I couldn't have imagined all the things I'd done in the past few weeks either. Everything had changed and I didn't want a single thing to go back to how it was before.

  I lolled onto my back and Maxim's arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me close to him.

  "Are you going to train me up?" I asked him, glancing over at him. I was a little flushed from the champagne, but it didn't seem to have touched him at all.

  "That's the plan."

  "What will you teach me?"

  "All kinds of things. How to use a gun properly. How to follow someone without them knowing you're doing it. How to plant trackers and listen in. How to stick the knife in and be three hundred yards away before anyone realises anythings happened."

  It shouldn't have turned me on to hear Maxim talk so casually about taking people out, but on some level it undeniably did. He was so professional, so calm and in control and efficient about it. I knew that I could learn to be the same.

  Elizabeth

  Under the blanket we were hidden from view, but only so much.

  The grass was a cool contrast with the heat of my skin, and with very small movements, Maxim slid his hand up the inside of my thigh. Every millimeter made anticipation rise in me, and it was all I could do to stop myself from moaning as he grazed his thumb over the seam at my crotch.

  I didn't care that we might get caught. In fact, that added a secret thrill. I could hear people walking past our little blanket every so often, and I knew they must have seen us entwined, so completely wrapped up in each other.

  The age difference between us might as well have not existed, because we could have been mistaken for any pair of teenagers, pressed so close to each other that there was no space between us. The only difference was, this was no inexperienced fumble. Maxim knew exactly what he was doing and I was putty in his hands.

  When he kissed me, deep and long, for unbroken minutes at a time, every part of me tingled with a need for more and I could barely hold in the need to groan against his lips.

  If the whole summer had filled up with days like this I'd have had no complaints at all. And I knew that wherever we ended up after all of this came to an end, having him close was all I'd ever need.

  His hands glided over me with skilled precision, sometimes above the blanket, sometimes beneath it, teasing touches that I wished would stay longer. I could feel the heat of his cock even through his jeans and when I shifted my hips to press closer, he rocked in to meet me, digging the hard, heavy weight of it in against me.

  Everything was sunsoaked and hazy and so, so slow I thought I was going to die. Somewhere between the kisses and his hands sliding over my bare skin, having him had become an absolute necessity.

  "Maxim," I whispered, voice ragged because I didn't think I could hold it together much longer. "Please. We should go home."

  His hand trailed further up my skirt and his fingers skimmed the elastic of my knickers.

  "Most people are so unobservant you can get away with murder, right in front of them, if you do it right."

  I bit my lip, stifling a groan as his fingers curled around the thin fabric of my knickers, immediately understanding the implications of what he'd just said. I shuddered, rocking in against him and I trailed my hands slowly down his chest, feeling for the top of his pants.

  I blinked at him, pausing a moment before I pulled his throbbing erection out, curling my fingers tight around him. "I'm so wet for you," I whispered, and my words barely trembled the air between us before his mouth was on me all over again.

  A fug was building underneat the blanket and Maxim pulled my knickers to the side, huffing a little as I drew him closer into line, shifting my hips so that I could take him on my side.

  He pushed into me, looking deep into my eyes, struggling not to make a sound and I saw how perfect it felt being mirrored back to me in his face. Every breath he took was my breath and I was greedy to breathe him in, greedy to feel the tiniest rocking motion he started up, so so slowly, that I could have shouted out with frustration. I knew in that moment that what we had was far, far deeper than just sex.

  Maxim understood me completely and I understood him and right there, underneath that blanket, right next to the line that marked where Greenwich Meantime began, there was no one else in the world I could imagine being more in tune with.

  My whole being was desperate for more, desperate for him to roll me over onto my back and pound me into the ground, right here in the middle of the park, but Maxim stayed steady and I forced myself not to give in.

  I wanted this. Right here. And the only way it would happen was if I stopped myself from rutting against him and letting the world know exactly how good he felt inside me.

  He must have been some kind of superman, because my self control was long gone where his refused to waver. I had to bite my lip to stop from shouting out, and Maxim's hand on my arse pulled me in closer, making me murmur out a groan. Deliciously slowly, he eased out and I realised I could feel every millimeter of him as he slid out and my body clung on. When he pushed in again it was even slower and my whole body opened to him like some kind of flower turned towards the sun.

  His cock was made to be inside me. Moving slowly, barely pulling in and out at all, his cockhead grazed over my g-spot with such precision that it felt like I was turning molten. All the strength had seeped out of me, and I was certain my body was going to combust. He'd turned me into a human fireball. I was set to immolate.

  "Hush," he whispered and there was a little more loss of control evident in him now - the sweat beading on the top of his lips making me taste salt as I kissed him and the way his eyes flickered like I was the best thing he'd ever had.

  I believed it. This was magic. I couldn't imagine anyone else doing what Maxim did to me.

  The kisses he snatched were suddenly more hasty and I could feel that undeniable animal need building in him, masculine and primal and strong. But still he didn't change pace.

  I experimented, tensing my pussy around him and releasing, trying to massage him without my hands, and he let out a stunted groan. God I wanted him so badly.

  "Max please. Come for me. Come deep inside me."

  Somehow, he managed to keep his motions slow and stealthy beneath the blanket, but I felt him tense at that and his cock hardened impossibly inside of me unt
il he was pure steel and I was impaled on every single inch of him.

  My body clenched hungrily and Maxim's eyes widened briefly, his gasp sharp and urgent, tumbling as he collapsed into me. I felt his cock pulse just a moment before he shot his cum deep inside of me in long waves and the first of them tipped me over too.

  Maxim's hot mouth on mine smothered my cry as my whole body tensed and shook, milking him for all that he had. He rolled me over, finally, bearing me down into the cool grass as I shook with need for him.

  I didn't care that we were still in our clothes. I didn't care that we must have been attracting some kind of attention, no matter what Maxim said, writhing underneath our blanket, with our food and our champagne forgotten.

  When the world came back to me, he was holding me close and I smiled up at him, loving the weight of him pressing me down into the ground. He was still inside me, and I wasn't going to let him move until he slipped out me of his own accord.

  "You're beautiful," he whispered and I arched my neck up, straining to reach his lips until he relented and ducked down to kiss me all over again, still slow and hazy. I never wanted the afternoon to end.

  CHAPTER 28

  Maxim

  Jean Alaman's name was the only one underlined on the front page of Pierce's book.

  Regardless, I scanned the whole lot over to Valentin and asked him to send over any relevant information in return.

  I already had an idea of what to expect. If we were right and this was a list of contacts then Mr Alaman was going to be embroiled in our financial affairs somewhere along the line, and no doubt he had access to the same kind of information on a number of the other property owners that Sutherland had decided to target.

  The files I asked Valentin for came through by encrypted email a few days later and Elizabeth and I spent most of the morning going over them.

  I showed her the process, step by step. How to plot our approach.

  The files held as much detail as was in the public domain, a few pictures, where possible, address, place of work. Some things that involved more specialist contacts, such as itemised credit card statements and the log of all the journeys made, tapping in and out of the transport system. All these things Valentin could pay someone to procure and bundle into a neat file.

  It was a lot of paperwork to go through, and as bad as it was for the environment, the only way to go through it all properly was in hard copy. The laser printer filled the room with noise all morning.

  "I'll plant some trees to make up for it," I reassured Elizabeth, and she chuckled to herself when she picked up the first few sheets, hot off the printer.

  "A hitman who cares about the environment."

  I shrugged. "Won't be anything left for our kids if we ruin it for them."

  She held my eye, and her smile turned soft and thoughtful. Maybe I hadn't meant our kids specifically when I said it, but I did after she looked at me like that. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I knew one day I wanted to see her holding our child in her arms. I wanted to be right there with her, looking down into our baby's tiny face. I could practically see the hospital room in my minds eye.

  "So, what are we doing with all this?"

  My job, part of the craft that I wanted to teach Elizabeth, was how to turn all the paperwork into something useful. The way I worked was thorough and precise. I didn't let people tell me where to go or where to target someone, I collected all the available information and cross referenced it all, until I had the perfect picture.

  Sometimes it took weeks at the window of the building opposite to figure out a man's routine so that I could make an approach in a window of time where he was expected to be out of contact. I could time my hit to make a man disappear, and when I got it right, no one would suspect anything for a full day and then it would be a process of reconstructing his last movements and trying to cobble together in reverse exactly what I was starting to do now.

  Jean Alaman was the main focus.

  I picked a new highlighter from a pack I'd purchased from WHSmiths and tossed it over to Elizabeth, as I picked up a sheaf of paper of my own.

  "We're looking for patterns. Regular locations that come up time and time again, the same routes travelled. We want to map out his day to day. Whether Monday has a different routine to Tuesday, when he goes to the gym, what he does on the weekend, whether he pays for sex. Where we're going to be able to get eyes on him most effectively."

  Elizabeth looked at me, and popped the cap off her highlighter. I couldn't tell what she was thinking until her smile broke. "You're not exactly the spontaneous type, are you Maxim?"

  "Spontaneity gets you caught. No one finds a Toropov corpse, because I give myself time to do it right. You want a sniper, or a drive-by, that's a different matter. I'm not that guy. When I solve problems, they stay solved. I'm teaching you how to do that too."

  Elizabeth's grin grew again, and she tapped at the corner of her mouth with the end of the highlighter she was holding. "You're sexy when you get all serious."

  "It's a good thing I'm a very serious man."

  As much as I wanted to drag her back to the bedroom at every chance we got, I managed to keep my hands off her long enough to form a picture of the movements of our over-curious investment manager.

  Elizabeth

  I looked up from the mound of papers I was working through, blinking hard when I realised that the day had gone on without us and night was starting to draw in. Maxim switched the lamps on and I rubbed at my eyes, stretching out, as I yawned.

  I hadn't thought his life would be like this. I couldn't imagine how lonely he must have been, alternating between long stretches working research like this, going out into the world to show his face in his legitimate guise, but never really able to let anyone in before me, and then going into the field, camping out wherever he had to, hunting his prey right to the end. Only to have to manage the disposal and then start all over on the next job. No wonder this didn't feel like his real home, he only really used it as an office and a place to regroup before he dove back under.

  That was what my life was going to be like. I hoped that I could take it, that maybe with the pair of us in it together, we could find solace in each other.

  "It looks like Sutherland paid him."

  Maxim looked back at me, drawing the curtains sharply closed. "I came to that conclusion too."

  "He might not even have meant to betray you. Not maliciously, I mean."

  "The motive doesn't really matter."

  I frowned. "If all he's after is money, then you guys can pay him better, can't you?"

  Maxim tilted his head, that familiar grimace on his face that always appeared when he didn't want to tell me something told me I'd said something overly optimistic or stupid.

  "Anyone who can be bought so easily is a liability."

  "But he didn't even know who he was dealing with. He probably just thinks he's blowing the cover on a bunch of tax dodgers. I mean, who'd be insane enough to cross the Russian mafia and have it down on paper to come back to them?"

  He let out a slow breath, weighing what I'd said. "Sweetheart, you don't have to pull the trigger. It's all on me."

  "That's not what this is about, Max."

  He didn't look convinced, and that irritated me more than I knew it should.

  "You want a whole load of finance guys who thought they were blowing the whistle on the kind of billionaires who caused the banking crisis turning up dead?"

  "They won't turn up dead. They'll go permanently missing."

  "Oh my God, Maxim, that's not the point I'm trying to make."

  He shook his head. "Sweetheart, I don't think you understand-"

  "Don't you damn well Sweetheart me, Max. You haven't even thought this through. If you could get them on your side, instead of working against you-"

  "These moral do-gooder bankers?"

  "Max. I'm serious. Maybe they're not moral. But they clearly need money or they wouldn't have done anything for the bribe Sutherland g
ave them. That's my mum's money he used, right there, in black and white. I think I should at least get to see whether there's any salvaging it."

  Maxim let out a strained groan and he rubbed his hands over his eyes. "Christ almighty. Why am I letting you talk me into this?"

  "Because you love me. Because deep down you know I'm right. And they are way more useful to the Bratva alive and on side. Your money guy has to start all over again if they disappear and it gets investigated."

  "You're saying someone new would trace it back."

  "Well it can't be that bloody hard, can it? Not if Sutherland did it. He's not exactly some kind of deep forensic journalist."

  He let out a sigh. "Let's talk to Valentin."

  "Thank you, Max. I just think it's worth looking into."

  CHAPTER 29

  Maxim

  Valentin opened a three way call, and Roman Dvornikov came up onto the other half of the screen, clearly on his yacht somewhere in Florida waters, while Valentin was, as usual, in his Moscow abode.

  Roman's Slavic accent had softened with a Miami accent. The guy had settled in the sunshine, putting his percentage of each transaction to good use creating the kind of lifestyle he wanted. I didn't blame him, but it wasn't the kind of life I craved. I'd always preferred getting my hands dirty to messing around with spreadsheets and paperwork and pretending they were clean.

  Still, I'd always liked the guy, and he knew what he was talking about.

  "The issue is, guys, I've had to find a work around. Offshore accounts aren't as anonymous as they used to be. You can't rock up and slap enough cash down to make them give you a numbered account with no name attached these days. So we have to bounce it through companies owned by other companies, make the paper trail complicated, bounce the cash from country to country. But, yeah, we need guys like Alaman in The City, in London, in Geneva… Singapore it makes it a little easier. The Caymans have their own challenges… There are some other countries that haven't been stung by governments throwing their weight around, but it's still tricky. I'm looking into Bitcoin, but we've got a lot of assets tied up in currency, and more solid forms. Art, real estate. Solidifying and diversifying our wealth is the best way to keep us running."