Page 40 of Unholy Tsar

I trail behind him reluctantly as we walk through the dimly lit basement. Our footsteps echo off the concrete walls, and the sound feels almost ominous, like it’s amplifying the coldness between us. He’s walking with purpose, his steps strong and steady. I try to keep up but the increasing distance between us suddenly makes it hard to breathe.

“But wouldn’t I be safer here?” With you. I swallow those words.

He stops briefly and turns to face me. I search his eyes, hoping for some sign of warmth or reassurance, but his expression stays hard, unreadable. Why? “I’ve changed your security detail. Your new guards are more efficient. They’re aware of what happened to the last ones. It should motivate them to do better.”

What? His words swirl in my mind as we continue walking, clawing through the confusion and hurt growing inside me. Oh my god… What does that mean? What happened to the last guards? Fuck. Roy.

I feel a frigid wave run through me as we reach the car. Maksim opens the back door for me. I hesitate.

“Well?” he demands.

There’s no point in arguing. I slowly slide in, and he shuts the door behind me. As he walks around to get in from the other side, my gaze meets his driver’s in the rearview mirror. He gives me a polite nod before rolling up the privacy partition.

Once Maksim’s in the car, we start moving. The first few minutes are quiet. I use the silence to gather my courage and figure out how to ask about what happened to Roy and my previous security detail. Do I even want to know? “So–um, I was wondering—” I trail off, losing my nerve when Maksim glances at me.

The corners of his lips pull up in a slight smile. “Lost for words, Myshka? How unusual.”

“I want to know what happened with Roy and the rest of my guards,” I blurt out in response, unable to hold back any longer.

His face closes off. “They’ve been taken care of.”

They’ve been taken care of. They’ve been taken care of. The words ring in my ears over and over as my heart starts to palpitate. That sounds awfully like they’ve been killed to me.

“How? How were they taken care of?” I press, needing to know for sure.

“Don’t worry, they’re alive.” Maksim reassures me, but before I can blow out a breath of relief, he continues. “But at this moment, they’re probably wishing for the mercy of death.”

It’s like a punch to the gut. This is all my fault.

“Maksim, I—"

“They’ve been taken care of, Myshka,” he interrupts. “That’s all that you need to know.” His tone is final. Part of me is desperate to push back, but a heaviness settles over me, and I sink into my seat, unable to speak. I glance out of the window, trying to distract myself.

At least they’re alive. Whatever they’re going through, they’ll eventually heal from it, right? Right?

I look back to Maksim. His nose is buried in his phone, and he’s typing furiously. Should I ask him for mercy? No. The only reason they’re still alive is because I begged him to do anything but kill them.

“What?” he asks without glancing up.

“What do you mean, what?”

“You’re staring. What is it now?”

I shift my gaze to the window, pretending to be interested in the passing scenery. “Nothing.” I can feel his eyes on my face, but I stubbornly keep staring outside, even though I’m not really seeing anything. My heart starts racing again, but for a different reason this time.

When Maksim’s burning glare finally drops from me, I melt into the chair. It takes a moment for me to realize that the car is slowing down. We’ve arrived. Shit.

I stay seated, even after we stop and the engine is turned off.

“We’re here,” Maksim announces gruffly—as If I couldn’t tell.

Still, I’m reluctant to leave. Not because I fear for my safety or anything, but because I want to stay with him. Crazy, I know.

“What about our lessons?” I ask, desperately trying to think of a reason to convince him to come inside with me.

“Don’t worry, we’ll continue tomorrow.”

“Do I come to you or do you come to me?”