Unholy Tsar: A Dark Mafia Romance (Ruthless Dynasty Book 4)

Chapter 24

After spending some quality time in the shower—getting distracted by other pleasurable activities while washing each other”s bodies—we finally leave the hotel. And since the penthouse is permanently reserved for Maksim, we didn’t even have to check out; how cool is that?

Everything’s a bit of a blur as we make our way to the private tarmac where Maksim’s jet is waiting for us. Maksim takes a few minutes to talk to the pilot and the crew while I buckle myself into a seat in our private cabin.

By the time we take off, I’m dying for lunch. The ‘exercise’ I got in the shower really worked up an appetite.

“You look pleased with yourself,” Maksim observes from his seat across the aisle. I could say the same thing about him. Despite how busy he clearly is, he looks relaxed and satisfied.

I shrug. “I think it’s finally starting to sink in.”

“What is?”

“Well, the idea that I don’t have to run anymore…”

It’s still hard to believe. I never thought the day would come.

Maksim shoots me a big smile as the stewardess rolls in with our lunch. It somehow looks even better than the food at the hotel restaurant.

Shit, a girl could get used to all this. “You’re really spoiling me.”

“It’s nothing less than what you deserve.” He rolls up his sleeves, and I can’t help but admire his thick, tattoo-covered forearms before I dig in. Goddamn, this man is something else.

As expected, the food is amazing. We barely talk while we eat, but there isn’t a moment of awkwardness. When did I get so comfortable with him?

After finishing my meal, I lean back in my seat and pat my belly. “Delicious. Thank you.”

He chuckles. “You’re welcome, dushen’ka.”

His use of the new pet name reminds me to google the meaning.

Sweetheart.

My heart flutters, and I smile. Looks like I graduated from little mouse to little girl to sweetheart. I have to bite my lip to hold back the squeal bubbling up at the back of my throat, but I’m unable to do anything about my tapping feet.

“What is it?” Maksim asks, staring at my restless toes with a raised brow. “Excited about something?”

Excited to be called sweetheart, yes. It’s silly, really, how giddy I am right now. It’s hard to stay still in my seat, and I’m not sure how I’m going to survive the remaining ten hours we have before we touchdown in Russia.

“Want to watch a movie with me?” I suggest, and he shrugs. “Come on, let’s go to the bedroom.” There’s a huge flatscreen TV mounted across from the luxurious bed.

Maksim wiggles his brows at me suggestively as we unbuckle our belts, and I laugh. “To watch a movie. Why are you so insatiable?”

“You make me this way, woman,” he growls playfully, giving my butt a love tap. I giggle. Giggle. Like some schoolgirl. What is this man doing to me?

As we enter the bedroom, he turns on the TV while I draw down the blinds to dim the room and create a cozy vibe. Then I sink onto the mattress. Maksim joins me, pulling me to his chest and handing me the remote.

I scroll through the choices, pausing when I spot one of my all-time favorite movies. An oldie but a goodie.

“We are the Millers?” I can hear the confusion in Maksim’s voice as I click play.

“It’s about a drug dealer. You should be able to relate,” I tease, to which he responds by lightly pinching my hip.

The movie is a comedy and doesn’t really take itself too seriously, but I love the idea of different people of varying ages, but slightly similar backgrounds coming together to go on a road trip in an RV—to pick up a shipment of marijuana in Mexico, but still, a road trip is a road trip, right?—while pretending to be a family.

And along the way, they learn to care for one another and eventually become a real family through the trials they face together.

I keep stealing glances at Maksim’s face as the movie progresses to see his reaction, but he remains stoic until Scottie P. shows up with his Know what I’m saying? line. He cracks a small smile, then he actually laughs when David meets Scottie and sees his ‘No Ragrets’ tattoo.

“I bet he regrets that extra ‘a’,” Maksim comments.

I chuckle, snuggling into his chest happily.

I must fall asleep, though, because when I wake up, the TV is off, and I’m alone in bed. I sit up groggily and rub the sleep out of my eyes, then pad to the ensuite.

After freshening up, I tie my hair in a messy bun and go to find Maksim. But before I can open the bedroom door, I hear someone calling his name.

I don’t want to interrupt anything, so I stop and stay quiet. Though, curiosity gets the best of me, and I can’t help but listen in. Pressing my ear to the door, I hold my breath.

“It’s already been three hours, sir. If we don’t land soon, we’ll run out of gas. How much longer do we need to keep flying around the tarmac?”

“How many hours of gas do we have left?” Maksim asks.

“Two hours,” the person replies.

“That’s more than enough time. Keep flying,” Maksim orders, and the other person replies with a murmured agreement.

What’s going on? I frown as I open the bedroom door and make my way to Maksim. He’s still in the private cabin in front of the bedroom; everyone else is in the main section.

“You’re awake,” he smiles up at me as I take my seat across from him.

“What was that about? We’ve been flying around for three hours? Why? Aren’t we in Russia yet?” What time is it even? It looks dark outside the window. How long did I sleep for?

“We are in Russia. We just haven’t landed yet. I’ll tell the pilot he can now.”

He presses a button next to his chair—a similar button is next to mine—that will summon the stewardess.

“What? Why not?” I ask, but before he can answer, the cabin door opens and the stewardess walks in.

“Tell Cole he can land the plane now,” he instructs her. After she’s gone, he turns to me, “What do you mean why? I didn’t want to risk you getting another panic attack when we landed. So, I waited until you were awake.”

My lips part in surprise as I stare at him. Wow. “I-I don’t know what to say. Thank you. But… I mean, that must’ve been very expensive.” And thoughtful, so, so thoughtful.

“It’s worth it if it means you’re well-rested. I know I didn’t let you get much sleep last night.” He winks at me, and my cheeks flush.

As we disembark from the jet and make our way into another Range Rover, his thoughtfulness stays with me. He’s always so sensitive to my needs and takes action in anticipation of them. I’ve never experienced that before. Never.

If he keeps this up, I’m not going to be able to keep him out of my heart for much longer.

“What are you thinking about so intently?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I murmur and glance out the window at the sunset. Beautiful. We continue to drive for another thirty minutes or so, during which I immerse myself in the gorgeous landscape.

Eventually, our car slows in front of a sturdy gate. It squeaks open, revealing a long, winding driveway that leads us to what can only be described as a palace.

And no, I’m not being extra. I mean an actual, real-life palace, with turrets and wings and everything.

“Wow,” I breathe.

“Stay in the car,” Maksim commands, getting out. “I’ll be right back.”

He disappears into the palace with three other men. They’re gone for a few minutes before I finally see them again. Maksim leads the way, a scowl twisting his handsome face. He says something to our driver that I can’t hear, then gets in beside me.

“What happened?” I ask, worried. “The owner didn’t want to host us?”

“I’m the owner. The problem is that the interior has been torn apart. Vandalized. Disrespected. Whoever did this must’ve thought the house was abandoned. They couldn’t have known who it belonged to. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have dared.”

I bite my lip as we leave the palace behind, a little disappointed that I didn’t get a glimpse inside its magnificent walls. But I don’t say anything. Instead, I put my hand on Maksim’s lap and try to quietly offer him some comfort.

He responds by placing his hand over mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze that fills me with warmth as we drive through this foreign land. By the time we arrive at the hotel, I’m barely awake. But I perk up a bit when Maksim lets go of my hand.

“Here we are,” he announces, and I peer out of the window in awe. The place is no less impressive than the palace, and it’s in the heart of Moscow, too.

Inside, the bustling atmosphere radiates with Maksim’s presence. Staff members instantly bend over backward to accommodate his ridiculous requests—which include kicking everyone off the top five floors.

I guess that’s where we’re staying.

The manager doesn’t even blink. He takes all of Maksim’s demands in stride. As he’s about to ask us to give him thirty minutes to prepare our room, someone shouts something in Russia and we turn to see a handsome older man approaching us with a jovial smile.

“I thought to myself, is that not the Tsar of America I see walking in? Maksim Smolov. What an honor.”

Maksim doesn’t budge.

“Mikhail Ivanov,” the man introduces himself. That seems to jog Maksim’s memory.

The two men shake hands. “I know who you are, Mikhail. I’ve heard of your business acumen. You’ve built quite the fortune over the past decade, haven’t you?”

Mikhail’s smile widens with pleasure as he turns to me. “And who is this pretty young jewel?”

It would seem Russian men are more polite and charming than their Italian counterparts. I smile at him and wait for Maksim to introduce us. Instead, he says something in rapid Russian that makes Mikhail give me a small bow and avert his gaze.

Puzzled, I look to Maksim for an explanation. I frown at Maksim, wondering what that was all about.

But he simply continues the conversation in Russian, leaving me out of the loop, and my frustration grows. I need to learn Russian if I’m going to stay by Maksim’s side. I hate feeling left out and not knowing what’s going on.

Thankfully, the manager returns to tell us our rooms are ready, and Maksim rounds up his conversation with the oligarch, who adds in English, probably for my benefit since he darts a quick look at me, “I would be honored if you’d join me for dinner tonight.”

I expect Maksim to decline—after all, we just arrived in Russia and need our rest. But to my surprise, he accepts the offer.

“I thought you’d say no to dinner,” I comment as we get into the elevator.

“Russia is different from America. We need to make the rounds first. Declining a dinner invitation from a powerful man like Mikhail could be perceived as an insult. Plus, I don’t want to step on any toes, especially since I’ll need their help with what I’m here for. I’m still a powerful man to be feared, but my power here isn’t as absolute as it is in the States.”

I nod in understanding. A moment later, the elevator opens right into a fancy foyer with a large twinkling chandelier. I gasp, taking in the luxury. Damn, I can’t even imagine how much a place like this costs per night.

Maksim doesn’t seem bothered.

My excitement dies down as I remember our plans for tonight. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how extravagant will tonight’s dinner be?”

“It’s going to be at Mikhail’s palace, so probably a 10.”

I gulp in dismay as I mentally flip through my limited wardrobe. None of my clothes are suitable for an event like that. “Shit, what am I going to wear?”

Maksim pulls out his phone and quickly types something. A moment later, I hear it buzz, and he looks back up at me. “I just took care of it.”

My heart skips. “You just bought a dress for me?”

“Something like that.”

“You didn’t want my opinion?”

He walks up to me with a smile and chucks my chin. “No. I know what you look good in, dushen’ka.”

“Want to at least give me a hint?”

“You’ll be the belle of the ball. A captivating princess.”

“Princess, huh?”

I could get used to that.

He lifts up my left hand and rubs his thumb over my ring finger.

“A queen,” he corrects.