Bratva Prince (Bratva, #2)

by T.J. Maguire

“If you’re gonna kill me, kill me. I’m not afraid to die. So if you’re gonna do it, hurry up. Otherwise, get the fuck out of my face.” For the briefest moment, all I could do was stare at her in shock. I could tell by the look in her eyes she was entirely serious. She wasn’t scared to die. There wasn’t an ounce of fear on her face. Just total calmness, complete ease, like this was just another day at the office. I’d never met a woman like her. She was fearless. Even in the face of death.

And yet, none of the Bratva women I’d met had ever shown such a complete and total lack of fear. Except maybe my sister. But she was batshit crazy.

I was big on assuming the worst in people. Especially men.

Women were just as, if not more, dangerous than men.