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They better be prepared because I’m going to come at those fuckers with a wrath that even the deepest circles of hell haven’t seen.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MAXIM
It takesme hours to sort out the mess the attack brought about. Both the press and police were all over the auction house by the time I sent Kira’s attacker to his grave. With blood still coating my hands, I managed to spin a story that benefitted me: A group of thieves had infiltrated the auction house, posing as waiters, with the intention of stealing millions in valuable wine.
The press ate up the story, and the cops didn’t dig too deep because, well, let’s just say I have connections in high places. In the end, I came out looking like the hero. Most, including Friedrich himself, believed I had defended them from the intruders, leading to a flood of praise and favorable coverage.
It’s midnight as I finally get back to the hotel, and I’m still vibrating with a mix of adrenaline and pure fucking anger at the Black Company. I don’t even know who to direct my rage at since the Triad remains an anonymous force with a nameless, faceless leader.
Konstantin is waiting for me as I step out of my private elevator and into the suite. I thought about moving us to myprivate residence in New York, but a hotel is safer. Even the Black Company is not stupid enough to stir up shit in a public space after what they pulled earlier today.
“How is she?” Seeing Kira nearly get hurt, knowing she’s a target because of me, has lodged a cold knot of terror in my gut. I hadn’t felt that scared since I lost my son.
Ilya’s memory is a wound that never closes, a sharp jab to the soul at the most unexpected moments. I can still hear his four-year-old laughter echoing through the halls of our home. His small hands, always reaching for mine, trusting and sure. The way his eyes lit up like the first star on a clear night whenever I returned from a trip, especially when I brought back gifts. His favorite was a miniature wooden ship an old artisan handcrafted in Turkey, claiming it held magic in its tiny sails—magic Ilya believed could sail him to any land he wished.
Konstantin cocks his head, and I realize he was talking while I was lost in my thoughts. “Excuse me?”
“Kira’s angry.”
I quirk an eyebrow at him. I was expecting him to say something along the lines of shaken, maybe upset. I wasn’t expecting anger. But Kira manages to surprise me at every turn.
“Why is that?” I ask, stripping off my bloodied dress shirt while my guard passes me a fresh one.
He clears his throat. “She seems to be upset that we stopped her from fighting the assailants.”
A full-blown smile lifts my lips because only Kira would be pissed off that my men removed her from a situation where my enemies were attempting to kill her. “Where is she now?”
He leads me to the open living area, where she’s pacing the penthouse floor with the energy of a brewing storm. When I step into the room, she comes charging at me. Fury and frustration fill her gaze, and before I can brace myself, she raises her hand, about to slap me across the face.
My hand darts out and catches her wrist before her palm makes contact. “Go ahead and throw a hissy fit, but if you think I’m the kind of man who will ever put my woman in danger, you’re wrong.” I let the words hang between us.
She sniffs and tries to take a step back, but I’m still grasping her wrist.
In that auction house, I was more beast than man, protecting what belongs to me. What’s mine. Business arrangement or not… She. Is.Mine.
This truth burrows into my veins and holds on tight.
She pulls her hands out of my grip and crosses her arms over her chest. “You seem to forget who I am. I’ve been playing this bullshit society-wife role, even excelled at it, but when shit hits the fan allow me to be Kira Kozlov. You wanted someone to rule by your side, so let me be that,” she pleads.
“Tell me, what was your plan? We were surrounded by members of the Black Company—trained soldiers with knives. Did you really have a fighting chance?”
She tilts her chin up but remains silent.
Maybe she knows I'm right. Security was tight at the event, prompting the Black Company's men to disguise themselves as waiters. The only available weapons were kitchen tools and knives, but they were trained operatives and knew how to use them. Thank fuck my men, acting as guards, were permitted to carry arms.
“Let me make this clear,” I continue, pushing Kira against the wall, my thumb drifting over her hammering pulse. “There’s no fucking way I’ll ever allow you to risk your life. Being my wife is dangerous enough on its own. I won’t lose another person that?—”
Means something to me. Fuck. What did I almost say?
Kira looks at me like she can see through to my soul. She can see the hurts and betrayals that I haven’t released buried there.
Her voice is gentle when she speaks again. “What happened that you hold on so tightly to everyone in your life? You can’t control everything in your perfect little world. Sometimes, bad shit happens.”
Her words cut to the bone, and I don’t like the feeling. I respond in the only way I know how—I rear back and sting. “Don’t try to be more than what I need you for. It won’t end well.”
Her body braces like I slapped her, and she gazes at me, eyes brimming with pain.
