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His large hand encircles my wrist, drawing me towards him until I collapse against his chest. His powerful arms wrap around me, holding me close. I tilt my head up to look at him, drinking in his distinct profile in the dim light. He might not have aristocratic blood, but his features are regal. Sharp nose, chiseled cheekbones, lips that curl just right.
“What am I to you?” I ask.
He shakes his head, locking eyes with me. "You’re my wife."
“Yes, but we both know it’s not real. Or forever.”
His expression hardens. “While you wear my ring, we are as real as it gets.”
“While I wear your ring?” I tuck a stand of hair behind my ears, not understanding why this conversation feels so fraught. “What exactly is the time frame we’re looking at?”
The soft sound of Maxim's sigh travels through his chest. “You married me to avenge your aunt’s death, and I married you to distract the press and keep Alyona in my world, however misguided that seems to me now. But after that…” He drifts off.
“But after that, we go our separate ways?”
He pauses, blows out a heavy breath. “I tried marriage once. It’s not an experience I’d like to repeat.” He shifts to get a betterlook at me. “We still need to find your aunt’s killer, and I’m at war with the Black Company—you’re still needed by my side.”
“Good. Great,” I say with forced enthusiasm. I smile and soften against him, allowing my head to fall into the crook of his neck so I don’t have to look him in the eyes as a weight settles over my heart.
I should be thrilled that he’s helping me find Masha’s killers and then allowing me to get on with my life, but for some reason, it feels like a lead ball in the pit of my stomach.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
MAXIM
We've been backin Moscow for a few days. My return has been a whirlwind of meetings and strategy sessions, tackling the threat posed by the Black Company and overseeing my legitimate businesses.
Work consumes my days, but Kira owns my nights. The restless energy coursing through my veins finds release in her body. I've never experienced anything this intense and all-consuming, and that unnerves me. With each passing day, the fear creeps in—a fear rooted in a past where opening my heart led to a betrayal so profound, it cost me everything.
A knock on my office door pulls me out of my thoughts. “Come in,” I say, adjusting my tie.
Viktor steps inside, tall and imposing, his military training evident in his posture. “You wanted to see me?”
“Did you get anything from Leung last night?”
We’ve been working over Leung, the Black Company operative in our dungeon. But even after a few days of brutal questioning, he isn’t talking.Yet.
Viktor's frown deepens, displaying more emotion than he usually allows himself to show. “We’ve pushed him hard. He’s been trained to resist—that much is clear.”
I grunt, my frustration mounting. Viktor, Pavel, Roman, and I have taken turns torturing Leung, but the guy’s a fortress. Somewhere in there, though, is a weak spot. We need to find it before the Black Company makes their next move.
“Try the electrodes on his feet again. He wasn’t fond of that method.”
“We will. We’ve been working around the clock?—”
“Then make time stop,” I cut him off, my words like cold steel. “I want the Black Company gone. Erased. When they targeted my wife, they signed their death warrant.” I pause, letting the gravity of my words weigh heavily in the silence.
Viktor grunts in acknowledgement and takes his leave. He knows the stakes.
A familiar heaviness settles in my chest because no matter which way I look at it, violence is inevitable.
Things with the Black Company are reaching a boiling point, and the thought of Kira getting harmed because of me, like Ilya was, feels like an invisible band constricting around my lungs. Which is why she’s not allowed to leave the estate for the time being. She gets it, but she's definitely not thrilled about having her movements restricted.
The only good thing to come out of the Black Company attack in New York was the opportunity to see Alyona. I don't know what Kira said to her when they were alone, but Alyona seemed to thaw a bit towards me afterwards. I can't say the same for the rest of the Kozlovs, but at least the lines of communication with them are open. They're aware of the need to increase security as the Black Company situation escalates, and knowing that the Kozlovs are vigilant in protecting Aly lifts a weight off my shoulders.
I rise from my desk, reaching for the vodka bottle I keep in the fridge in the corner of the room. The clear liquid flows smoothly into my glass. Taking a deep breath, I make my way to the window, a chill seeping through the panes. Below, the landscape is a mosaic of barren trees and fallen leaves. I take a sip, the vodka's bite mirroring the sting of the cold outside.
“Meditating on the meaning of life?”
