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His eyes blazed, but he didn’t pull away. “I watched them murder her,” he snarled. “The Russians brutalized her before they killed her, and I watched. I didn’t stop them.”
I forgot how to breathe. “Max…” His name was a tight exhalation, and my eyes burned hotter.
His blind hatred and prejudice against Niko suddenly made awful sense, and I understood his misguided vendetta against my father with terrible clarity. If his family had told him that my dad had colluded with the Bratva—the criminal organization responsible for murdering his mother right in front of him—it was no wonder that he loathed Ron Fitzgerald.
The weight of the realization crushed my heart, and the tears I shed were for him, for the agonized boy who’d endured unimaginable trauma and had blamed himself for over a decade.
“I was thirteen,” he seethed. “Old enough to take on a man’s responsibilities when it counted. I failed, and she died because of me.”
Oh, Max.
“You’re not responsible,” I whispered, echoing the words he’d said to me.
I’d never realized how bound we were by similar pain. We both harbored a deep self-loathing, carrying guilt like a boulder on our shoulders. But where I’d hidden behind false smiles, Max had constructed his mask of rage to contain the terrible truth that we both held at our core.
I wasn’t ready to let go of my guilt. I didn’t know how to exist without it. If I released the strength it took to endure the strain, I might shatter into a million pieces.
He probably felt the same. I wouldn’t push him to absolve himself, because I didn’t want to break him.
Wordlessly, I pressed my forehead to his. He flinched when I made contact with his scar, so I caressed the right side of his face, allowing my fingers to slide over the damaged flesh for the first time. I wound them into his unruly curls, anchoring him to me. His massive body shuddered, and he leaned into my touch.
“Allie…” My name was a soft, pained groan.
A knock on my front door shattered the moment like a lightning strike. Max jolted away from me, and he was halfway to the foyer before I could blink. Confusion slowed my reaction time.
Who would be knocking on my door at this time of night? It had to be past ten o’clock by now.
Max’s boots thundered over the tiles as he rushed to confront whoever was outside.
I surged to my feet and rushed after him, hastily buttoning my top. What if it was my dad? I couldn’t imagine why he would come over right now, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d randomly stopped by to check on me.
My stomach dropped to the floor. I couldn’t allow Max to see my dad. Especially not when he was so raw from his confession about witnessing his mother’s murder. I’d seen the damage his massive fists could do to someone’s face. If Max attacked my father, he would severely injure him.
I reached the foyer just as Max wrenched the door open. His low growl gave me pause, but I resolutely pressed forward.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded.
His hostile tone made my stomach knot, and I skidded to a stop just behind him. His muscular frame filled my doorway, blocking me with his bulk. I peeked over his shoulder, and my heart skipped a beat.
Max’s sister stood on my front porch. The streetlight illuminated her sharp cheekbones, transforming her beautiful face into something savage and cruel. The physical similarities between her and Max had never been more apparent, with her harshly beautiful features and full lips twisted in a smirk. Her shark’s eyes danced with cruel delight as they fixed on me.
“Hello, princess.” Her white teeth flashed through the darkness, and her razor-sharp gaze cut back to Max. “Why didn’t you tell me that sweet little Allie is the mayor’s daughter?”
“Leave.” The word was a barely intelligible snarl, and Max’s big body practically vibrated with rage.
She lifted a slim shoulder in a casual shrug. “There’s no need to be rude. I’m happy to leave with you, little brother. Father wants to see us.”
All his muscles locked up tight. “Allie, go back inside.”
Francesca gave him an exaggerated pout. “Don’t be like that, Max. I’ll leave your precious princess alone.” She bared her shark-like smile at me. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
My insides squirmed, but I forced myself to meet her glittering gaze. “Max is here at my invitation,” I announced, lifting my chin in defiance. “You aren’t. Please leave.”
She turned her grin on Max. “Aw, she said please. So polite. Far too sweet for a brute like you. Come on, little brother. It’s time to go.”
Max’s muscles coiled tight, ready to unleash violence to protect me. “I’m not leaving her. You shouldn’t have come here, Francesca.”
