Chapter 4 - Alyssa
I’ve never been inside a car that probably costs more than most people make in five years, but here we are.
The leather seats smell like expensive cologne and money, while the dashboard displays more technology than I’ve ever seen outside of a sci-fi movie.
Maksim drives like someone who’s never had to worry about speed limits or traffic laws, his hands steady on the wheel as we glide through the city like we’re floating on silk.
My nerves are doing backflips in my stomach.
Not because I’m afraid of him—surprisingly, that fear evaporated the moment he swept me into his arms like some kind of avenging angel.
No, I’m nervous because I have no idea what I’ve just agreed to, and my track record with trusting powerful men isn’t exactly stellar.
“You’re fidgeting,” Maksim observes without taking his eyes off the road.
“I don’t fidget.” I stop bouncing my leg and force my hands to stay still in my lap.
“Right. And I don’t own half the shipping routes on the East Coast.”
I sit up straighter and whip my head his direction. “Do you?”
That earns me a sideways glance and a smile that makes my toes curl in my shoes. “Maybe.”
Great. I’ve gone from being stalked by a small-time criminal to being protected by someone who might actually be a mob boss. This might be a new personal record.
“Where exactly are we going?” I ask as he turns onto a street lined with trees that probably predate the Revolutionary War.
“Home. My home.” He glances at me again, and this time, his expression gentles. “Alyssa, I need you to understand something. I meant what I said back there about keeping you safe. You don’t have to be afraid anymore—of Troy, of his friends, of anyone. You’re under my protection now.”
The sincerity in his voice does something funny to my chest. When was the last time someone promised to protect me and actually meant it? When was the last time someone with the power to back up that promise even noticed I existed?
“I know you don’t know me very well,” he continues, “but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”
Can I? Three weeks ago, I thought I knew Troy well enough to trust him with my heart, my body, and my future. That ended with me discovering a criminal enterprise in his living room and subsequently running for my life. My trust meter isn’t exactly functioning at peak capacity right now.
But there’s something about Maksim that feels different. Maybe it’s the way he carried me to safety without a second thought or the authority with which he dismissed Troy’s threat. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s asking for my trust instead of demanding it.
“I’m trying,” I admit.
“That’s all I can ask for.”
We turn through a set of gates that look like they belong at the entrance to a country estate, complete with stone pillars and wrought iron scrollwork.
The driveway winds through perfectly manicured grounds that stretch as far as I can see, dotted with trees and flower beds that look like they require a small army to maintain.
Then I see the house, and my jaw hits the floor.
Calling it a house feels like calling the Taj Mahal a nice building.
The mansion in front of us is straight out of a historical drama, all soaring columns and elegant stonework that speaks of old money and older power.
Wings stretch out on either side of the main structure, connected by covered walkways that frame courtyards filled with fountains and sculptures.
“Holy fucking shit,” I breathe, then immediately clap my hand over my mouth. “Sorry, I—”
“Don’t apologize. I had a similar reaction the first time I saw it.”
“You didn’t grow up here?”
“God, no. I grew up in my mother’s family estate downtown. This belonged to my grandfather, then my father. Now it’s mine, for better or worse.”
He parks in front of steps that sweep up to double doors that look like they could stop a tank. A man in a perfectly tailored suit appears as if by magic, opening my door before I can even reach for the handle.
“Good afternoon, Miss,” he says with a slight bow that makes me feel like I should curtsy or something. “Welcome to Ravenshollow.”
“Ravenshollow?”
“The name of the estate,” Maksim explains, coming around to join us. “Harrison, this is Alyssa. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”
“Of course, Sir. Shall I prepare the blue guest suite?”
“Perfect. And Harrison? We’re not expecting any visitors for the foreseeable future. Anyone who shows up unannounced, outside of my family, of course, should be turned away.”
“Understood, Sir.”
The exchange happens so smoothly that I realize this isn’t the first time Maksim has brought home unexpected guests who need protection. That should probably worry me more than it does, but right now I’m too busy trying not to gawk at my surroundings like a tourist at Disney World.
The interior of the house defies every expectation I had about what rich people’s homes look like.
Yes, there’s marble and crystal and gold leaf everywhere, but it doesn’t feel cold or museum-like.
Instead, it feels lived-in, comfortable, like someone actually calls this place home rather than just using it to show off their wealth.
“This is the main foyer,” Maksim declares unnecessarily. “The living areas are through here; the kitchen is that way, the library is upstairs.”
“You have a library?”
“Two, actually. One for show, one for actual reading.”
Of course he does.
The tour that follows is a collection of rooms that are each more spectacular than the last. A dining room with a table that could seat thirty people.
A kitchen that looks like it belongs in a five-star restaurant.
A conservatory filled with plants that must cost a fortune to maintain.
A billiards room complete with a full bar and leather chairs.
“How many people live here?” I ask as we pass through what he casually refers to as “the morning room.”
“Just me, most of the time. Harrison lives in the staff quarters, along with a few other people who help keep the place running.”
“Doesn’t it get lonely?”
I immediately want to take it back. We barely know each other, and here I am prying into his emotional state like we’re old friends.
But Maksim doesn’t seem offended. If anything, his smile becomes more genuine, less guarded. “Sometimes. But I stay busy with work, and my brothers visit often enough to keep things interesting.”
“Brothers?”
“Five of them, plus some have wives. We’re a close family, despite what you might think about people in my line of work.”
There it is again—another hint about the mysterious “business” he’s involved in. I file it away with all the other clues I’m collecting, trying to piece together exactly who Maksim Barkov really is.
We climb a staircase that belongs in a palace, complete with a carved banister and oil paintings of stern-looking men who share Maksim’s strong jawline. The second floor is just as impressive as the first, with gleaming hardwood and Persian rugs that probably have their own insurance policies.
“This is your room,” he explains as he stops in front of a door about halfway down the hall.
The space beyond steals what’s left of my breath.
It’s easily three times the size of my apartment, dominated by a four-poster bed that looks like it belongs in a medieval castle.
The windows stretch from floor to ceiling, offering a view of gardens that seem to go on forever.
There’s a sitting area with a fireplace, a desk that’s probably an actual antique, and a bathroom visible through an open door that’s bigger than most people’s bedrooms.
“I can’t stay here,” I say automatically, even though my feet are already carrying me deeper into the room.
“Why not?”
“Because this is insane. I don’t belong in a place like this. I’m nobody special, just some girl with terrible taste in men who got herself into trouble.”
Maksim closes the door behind us and leans against it while he watches me with those light blue eyes that seem to see straight through my defenses. “You’re staying here, Alyssa. End of discussion.”
“I don’t have money to pay for a room like this.”
“I’m not asking for money.”
“Then what are you asking for?”
“Nothing you’re not willing to give.”
The cryptic answer sends a shiver down my spine, though whether from fear or something else, I’m not sure. I walk to the windows, partly to put some distance between us but also because I need a moment to work through everything that’s happening.
The view is straight out of a fairy tale—rolling lawns, formal gardens, and in the distance, what looks like a small lake with a gazebo on its shore. It’s the kind of place where princesses live in Disney movies, not where broke college graduates hide from psycho ex-boyfriends.
“Think about it logically,” Maksim offers, and I realize he’s followed me to the window. “Where else are you going to go? Back to hotel hopping with money you don’t have? Keep running until Troy eventually corners you somewhere you can’t escape?”
“I could leave the city,” I suggest with a shrug. “Start over somewhere else.”
“With what resources? You told me yourself that your savings are almost gone.”
He’s right, and we both know it. The practical reality of my situation doesn’t leave room for pride or independence. I’m broke, exhausted, and running out of options.
“What do you get out of this?” I ask, spinning around to face him. “Really. Why help someone you barely know?”
“Because I can.” He inches closer, and suddenly, the enormous room feels much smaller. “You need help, and I have the resources to provide it. The alternative—you ending up back in Troy’s hands—is unacceptable to me.”
“Why is it unacceptable? You don’t owe me anything.”
“Maybe not. But I’m claiming you anyway.”
The possessiveness in his voice should terrify me.
Instead, it sends heat pooling in my stomach, awakening feelings I have no business entertaining.
This man just promised to protect me from my psycho ex, and here I am fantasizing about what it might feel like to be claimed by him in entirely different ways.
“Besides,” he continues in a more practical tone, “staying here makes financial sense for you. You’re bleeding money on hotels and meals. Here, you’ll have everything you need without spending a dime. You could actually start rebuilding your savings instead of burning through what’s left.”
The argument is compelling because it’s true. I’ve been so focused on immediate survival that I haven’t thought about what comes after. Staying here would give me that breathing room.
“What happens when this is over?” I ask. “When Troy is dealt with, and I don’t need protection anymore?”
Something moves across his face too quick for me to interpret, but intense enough to make my heart skip. “We’ll figure that out when the time comes.”
“And if I want to leave before then?”
“You won’t.”
The confidence in his voice makes me want to argue, to prove that I’m not some helpless damsel who can be swept off her feet by wealth and protection. But the truth is, I don’t want to leave. Not yet. For the first time in weeks, I feel safe, and that’s a luxury I’m not ready to give up.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll stay. At least until this situation with Troy is resolved.”
His shoulders drop, and he lets out a long breath before he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Good little kitten,” he mumbles. “Now, let me show you the bathroom. I think you’ll appreciate the soaking tub.”
The tour of the en suite bathroom is almost as overwhelming as the rest of the house. Marble surfaces, gold fixtures, and a bathtub that’s practically a small swimming pool. There’s also a shower with multiple heads and more bottles of expensive toiletries than most spas.
“I don’t have any of my things,” I realize aloud. “Everything I own is in a hotel room across town.”
“We’ll retrieve your belongings tomorrow. Tonight, I’ll have Harrison pick up whatever you need to be comfortable.” Maksim pulls out his phone. “Clothes, toiletries, anything else you can think of.”
“I can’t ask you to—”
“Again, you’re not asking, Alyssa. I’m offering.” He’s already scrolling through his contacts. “Besides, it’s not safe for you to go back to that hotel. Troy probably has someone watching it.”
The reminder of my stalker sends a chill through me, but it settles almost immediately. I’m not facing this alone anymore. I have Maksim, with his fortress of a house and his quiet confidence that he can handle anything Troy throws at us.
“Are you hungry?” he asks after sending what I assume is a message to Harrison. “I can have the chef prepare something, or we could order takeout if you prefer.”
“You have a chef?”
“I have a lot of things.” His smile is equal parts charming and dangerous. “Most of which are now at your disposal.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, and I mean it more than he probably realizes. “For all of this. The protection, the room, the kindness. You’re being incredibly generous to someone you barely know.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he says, moving toward the door. “Thank me after I deal with your Troy problem.”
He pauses with his hand on the handle, turning back to look at me with eyes that seem to burn with some inner fire. “Oh, and Alyssa? If you need anything—anything at all—just ask. My room is at the end of the hall. Visit me anytime.”
The way he says it, combined with the heated look he gives me, makes my imagination run wild with possibilities and memories. I’m here for protection, nothing more. Getting involved with Maksim beyond that would complicate an already absurd situation in ways I’m not prepared to handle.
But as the door closes behind him, leaving me alone in this palace of a bedroom, I can’t shake the image of what might happen if I did find myself knocking on his door later tonight.
The thought terrifies and thrills me in equal measure.
For the first time in weeks, I’m safe. The question is whether I’m safe from Troy, or if I’ve just traded one dangerous situation for another.
Either way, I’m no longer running.
And that has to count for something.