Page 50 of Unholy Tsar

At least, I’m not overdressed.

Behind us, five of Mykel’s men get out of another car. They go into the restaurant first. We wait until one of them comes back out and gives us the all-clear before we enter.

Inside, the kitschy interior greets us with the word “Diner” shining in neon lights and an old jukebox crooning 90’s hits. It may not be the fanciest place, but it sure has a certain warmth to it. I feel my tense shoulders as I take in the few patrons scattered throughout the different booths.

It reminds me of home. Not the home I’ve made in New York, but the one I carved for myself all those years ago as I struggled through college, before I met him—the man who ruined my life.

A chill rolls over my skin, and I hold myself as Mykel leads me to a booth near the front door. I slide in, and he and his men melt into the background, dividing themselves into strategic groups around me.

I pick up a menu and look for something good. Before I can decide, a waitress walks over. She raises her brow at the men surrounding me but otherwise chooses to ignore them.

“What’ll it be darling?”

“Um, I think I’ll get the pancakes stuffed with chocolate chips, topped with more chocolate chips and whipped cream. Oh, and a beer.” After all, why come to an all-night diner if I’m not going to stuff my face with junk?

“Good choice, dear.”

She takes my menu and heads to the kitchen while I glance around the diner. A few booths away, I spot two elderly men in fedora hats having an animated conversation. I glance away and see another duo—a middle-aged man and woman. It’s not exactly bustling in this place, but it quickly becomes clear that I’m the only one here alone.

Except, I’m not really alone, am I?

My eyes drift to the booth in front of me where Mykel and his men sit. Their expressions scream ‘stay away’ as their eyes rove around the diner like they expect someone to suddenly jump out and start shooting.

Weirdly, their presence comforts me. And inevitably, my thoughts wander back to Maksim.

Despite my best intentions, I can’t help comparing Maksim to my ex. After all, he’s the only person I’ve ever been in a relationship with—not that I think Maksim and I are in a relationship. Even so, he’s treated me a thousand times better than that asshole.

Not that it matters.

My ex used to treat me just fine… for a while. But as time went on, that normalcy faded, leaving me with an ever-growing monster. Still, I stubbornly stayed, refusing to accept it. He was the first man I ever loved. The first man I ever thought loved me. Now, I’m not sure he ever did. Maybe he was always an obsessed, paranoid maniac who just got worse at hiding it… or maybe it was something else.

My waitress returns with my meal, and I shove those thoughts from my head. “Actually, I’d like to make another order,” I say, needing to fill the big hole in my heart. “An extra-large serving of the nachos supreme and chicken wings for the booths in front and behind me, please.”

The waitress raises her brows but wordlessly jots down the order. “As you wish, dear.”

She leaves, and I try to relax and enjoy my meal. But my eyes keep darting to the kitchen for the second order to arrive. When the waitress finally drops the large tray brimming with food at Mykel’s booth, he shoots me the first glare I’ve ever seen on his face.

“You might be on duty, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat, too,” I explain. He shakes his head in exasperation, but his men burst into a chorus of thank-yous.

Should I tell them Maksim is paying for this?

I chuckle and decide against it. Lucky for him, the food here is stupid cheap, so it won’t even make a dent in his account.

The meal is decent, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Really, it’s just nice to be out of my lonely apartment. By the time I get back home, I feel good enough that I don’t even mind being back. It helps that I’m excited about my lesson with Maksim tomorrow. What will he say? What will I say? Are we going to pretend today didn’t happen?

No, he said it wasn’t a mistake. He would’ve said more if he hadn’t gotten that damned call, I’m sure of it. Slowly, a smile creeps onto my lips as I enter my room. Yesterday was not a mistake.

“You seem to be in an awfully good mood.”

The deep voice comes out of nowhere, making me jump and hit the wall with a squeak, fear lifting the hairs on my neck.

Then I see him, and the fear melts away.

“Maksim.”

“Had fun at the diner?”

“I-I did. What are you doing here? I thought you had work.”