Chapter 18
It’s been hours since I was dropped off at home, but I haven’t been able to shake this lingering feeling since I left Maksim. It’s not arousal. It’s not shame. It’s not happiness. It’s just… something I can’t quite put my finger on.
I keep replaying what happened in my mind.
We had a quickie on the bathroom floor, but somehow, it didn’t feel dirty. And the way he looked at me afterward?
I shiver just thinking about that tender glint in his eyes. No one’s ever looked at me like that before.
For a second there, I thought he’d say he’d changed his mind about me coming back to my apartment. That I should go wait for him in his penthouse instead. But he didn’t.
And part of me died—part of me I didn’t know was there… or maybe it was a part I didn’t want to acknowledge.
A deep sigh escapes my chest as I turn around in bed and stare up at the ceiling.
Suddenly, there’s a short knock on my door. My heart jolts. Could it be?... I roll off the mattress and rush to open the door, a smile growing on my lips.
That smile vanishes when I see Mykel standing there instead.
“Disappointed?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone before it turns more serious. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to take it personally.”
Despite myself, I let out a little laugh. “Please don’t. I don’t know why I was expecting someone else.”
He nods sagely. “I know what that’s like. Marie asked if you’re ready for dinner.”
I look back over my shoulder at my lonely room, the walls suddenly feeling like they’re closing in on me. I’d rather spend my time anywhere else.
“Actually, can I eat out tonight?” The words tumble out before I can think. But I’m desperate for a change of scene. Anything to take my mind off what I’ve done… and what I have to do.
“You want takeout?”
“No, I–” I hesitate, unsure if my suggestion is even wise. “I want to go out to eat.”
“Ah,” Mykel nods again. “I’ll have to check with the higher-ups, but I think that can be arranged. Of course, you’d have to promise to be on your best behavior and do whatever I tell you.”
“You have my word.”
With swift movement, Mykel pulls out his phone and types something in. A moment later, he gestures for me to follow him.
Despite it being my request, I still linger at the study’s doorway while he informs his men about this new change in plans. They stand up and flank me as we make our way outside.
Is this really a good idea?
Mykel opens the car door for me and hops into the passenger seat. “Do you have a place in mind? Or do I get to pick?”
“You can pick. Nothing fancy, though. Not too far away either. Oh, and the food has to be delicious.”
“I know just the place.” He leans forward and inputs an address into the GPS for the driver. I settle back in my seat and close my eyes. It’s only been a day since Mykel became my head of security, but I already like his vibe. Still, if I think about it for too long, I feel even guiltier about what happened to Roy. I sigh, promising myself that if I ever get a chance to make up for it, I will.
We barely drive a few blocks before the car rolls to a stop. I open my eyes.
“We’re here,” Mykel announces.
I glance out of my window, frowning. Here is a shabby-looking diner. The sign reads Dainty Diner. Or at least, I’m guessing it does. There’s an apparent gap where the I and Y are supposed to be leaving only Da nt Diner.
“Umm.” I search for a polite way to tell Mykel I’d rather go someplace else.
“Don’t knock it until you try it. They have good food,” Mykel assures as he gets out of the car. He opens my door for me, and I hesitantly climb out.
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.”
“I did. Still do. But that can wait. Everything else can wait.”
He says it so solemnly, but my heart soars. “Oh?”
“Tell me, Cecilia. Are you addicted to drugs?”
My stomach bottoms out and dread floods my veins, chilling me to the bone. “W–what do you mean?” I manage to stammer, trying to process his question.
He runs a hand over his jaw, studying me intently. “You don’t seem like an addict to me. You don’t seem like a dealer, either. So help me understand, why would you ever smuggle drugs?”
My lips part, and I try to step away from him, but my back is already against the wall. “How did—How did you—?”
“Find out that you were convicted for drug smuggling? I told you it was only a matter of time before I found out everything there is to know about you.”
I shake my head, refusing to believe it. Did he get hold of my criminal record? Oh God. “No. No. No.” If he found out about that, what else did he find out?
“Trey Giroux. Who’s that man to you?”
“No! No! No!” I scream, desperation clawing at my throat as I try to escape the room. Away from that name. Away from the man who just uttered it. But he blocks my way.
“Who is Trey Giroux, Myshka?”
Somehow, hearing Maksim say my ex’s name alongside his pet name for me is what breaks me.
I drop to my knees, my hands clamped over my ears as a high-pitched noise suddenly pierces the room. Through a haze, I register the bedroom door violently swinging open and Mykel and his men rushing in, but I’m beyond control now.
No. No. No. No. No.
Suddenly, my vision goes black, and a heavy warmth descends over my body. It feels like someone’s dropped a blanket over my head and is now hugging me from behind. That’s when I realize the noise is coming from me.
“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, Malyshka. I’ve got you. I have you. You’re okay.” A soothing voice breaks through the chaos.
The voice belongs to Maksim, and I cling to his words like a lifeline.
Summoning all of my strength, I manage to wrestle control over my vocal cords and stifle the rest of my screams. Curling into a ball, I turn into Maksim’s arms with a whimper.
His hand goes straight to my head, and he pats me gently over the blanket as he rocks me in his arms. Slowly, the rhythmic back and forth lulls me into a sense of calm, until even my whimpers die down.
After what feels like an eternity, the blanket is lifted, and I glance up to meet Maksim’s concerned face. “Are you okay, Malyshka?”
Before I can answer, he scoops me up and carries me to bed with tender care. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.”
I blink, and he’s already at my side again, placing a glass of iced brandy in my hand.
“Drink. It’ll help,” Maksim says. That’s when I realize my left hand is wrapped around his fingers, and I’m holding on for dear life. I gulp down the drink, feeling the ice clinking against my teeth. It burns my throat as it slides down, but it also warms my belly.
“You were right,” I whisper. “I feel better.”
He gives me a small smile as he sets the glass on the nightstand, still keeping his other hand linked with mine. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I look away from him. “Talk about what?”
“You just had a panic attack, Cecilia. Because I mentioned that bastard’s name. What did he do to you?”
My eyes snap back to his, and for a moment, I see the devil. He looks so angry, so wrathful that it’s almost terrifying. Almost. But he’s not upset at me. He’s furious on my behalf. My lips tremble, and a hot tear spills down my cheek as I whimper his name. “Maksim.”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it,” he murmurs, wiping my cheeks with the back of his fingers. “I’ll find out for myself. You don’t have to worry about anything. Shh, don’t cry.”
He sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving mine, and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. He’s here for me, and I know I can rely on him. The warmth spreads through me, easing the turmoil in my soul a bit. But then it hits me again, the realization that I can’t face this on my own. I need him. I need his strength, his comfort. Only he can help me through this.
The floodgates burst open, and I surrender to the overwhelming tide of emotion. I fling myself into his arms and bawl my eyes out. His arms wrap around me, providing a safe haven as I let out all the pent-up fear and pain I’ve been bottling up for so long. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”