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Max’s arms relax over the girl, his face tensing, trying not to argue with me.
That’s the thing about brothers—or a brother like Max.
With him being the overprotective brother, he doesn’t quite understand that I am bound to go against what he orders me to do. He’s twenty-five years old and hasn’t learned that quite yet. He will learn eventually that sibling love is constant, but his anger and frustration are only temporary.
That’s what makes us a dynamic duo.
I can hear the blonde whispering into his ear, probably saying something I would get pissed off at, but I don’t want a difficult day.
Giovanni has been messing with my emotions, and he hasn’t even been back that long. Forcing me around, toying with me, and making me do his dirty work.
If he were enough of a man, he would take my papa’s phone by himself.
My thoughts are interrupted when Max tugs on my arm, lifting me off the couch.
“Max, I can walk by myself.”
“We’re going now; I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Fine.”
He takes after Papa with his looks: tall with dark eyes.
I follow him as we walk into the garage and hop into his car. It’s older, very different from what everyone else in my family drives.
Max doesn’t even give me a chance to buckle my seat belt as he shifts the car into reverse, throwing my head forward so it slams into the dashboard.
“Fuck,” I say, trying to laugh so I can cover my frustration.
“Sorry.”
I can’t help but laugh. This day just started and it’s already all over the place.
Max made me leave the house in my sweatpants and tank top becausehedoesn’t want to take any chances.
I admire him for how much he cares, but this is not how I wanted to do it. I’m not even supposed to marry Kirill for a few weeks.
The memory of Kirill shoving me against the wall, attempting to force himself on me, overwhelms my emotions.
Maybe he’s right: doing this now is the best idea—especially since there isn’t anyone home besides his blonde. I don’t even want to think about what would happen if Papa knew where I’m going.
Max is speeding, going nearly twenty miles per hour over the speed limit. I never said he was smart; I only said he cared.
It is kind of exhilarating though. I haven’t left the house in weeks because of all the wedding planning I did with Ana.
A feeling of freedom and bliss.
“What if Papa finds out?” I ask.
“He won’t, Nina.”
My head falls between my shoulders as I think about what Papa will do to me, or even Max, if he finds out he helped me do this.
Papa and Max have never been civil. The only way they are similar is their need for power. That’s the reason they clash so much. Papa wants to retire, but Max refuses to marry.
Papa loves us—I know he does in his own way. I read something in a book once about how children pick up their parents’ bad tendencies.
Out of the three children my parents have, myself included, Max had it the worst. He got caught in the fires of my own father’s suffering. Ana and I were able to escape with Mama, but Max was not allowed to follow because he needed to learn how tobecome a man.
