Chapter 7 - Maksim
I snatch my phone from where it landed on the pool deck when I stripped out of my clothes with water still dripping from my hair as I swipe to answer Dimitri’s call.
Behind me, Alyssa is floating in the center of the pool, and her strawberry blonde hair is spread around her like a halo.
Everything inside me screams at me to ignore the phone and finish what we started, but in my line of work, that’s just not an option.
“This better be life or death,” I growl into the phone.
“It is,” my brother confirms. “We need you at the warehouse. Now.”
Dimitri’s voice is filled with panic, which puts me on high alert at once. My brother doesn’t spook easily, which makes his current tone all the more concerning.
“What happened?”
“Our crew found three bodies in one of our shipping containers. Fresh ones. Someone’s sending a message.”
Fuck. This is exactly the kind of situation that requires immediate damage control before it spirals into a full-scale war. Bodies in our territory mean someone’s either testing our defenses or trying to frame us for murders we didn’t commit.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Make it fifteen. And bring your diplomatic face; we might need to smooth some ruffled feathers.”
I end the call and turn back to Alyssa, who’s watching me with her head tilted to the side. The desire that was burning between us moments ago hasn’t disappeared, but it’s going to have to wait.
“I have to go,” I tell her, already moving toward my discarded clothes.
“Is everything okay?”
“Family business. Nothing for you to worry about.”
I despise lying to her, but what am I supposed to tell her? That I’m rushing off to deal with corpses that showed up in my shipping containers? That my “family business” involves the kind of thing she ran away from Troy for being involved in?
She climbs out of the pool, and water runs down her body, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. A few hours, maybe longer.” I pull on my pants without bothering with the shirt since I’ll have to change anyway. “Harrison will make sure you have anything you need.”
“Maksim.” She wraps a towel around herself and asks, “Is this about me? About Troy?”
“No. This has nothing to do with you or your situation.”
Although I don’t actually know if that’s true. The timing feels suspicious, but the Bratva has enough enemies to keep us busy without Troy’s amateur operation getting involved.
I walk over to her, unable to resist touching her face one more time before I leave. “Stay here. Don’t go anywhere alone, don’t answer the door for anyone except Harrison or my brothers. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Good little kitten.”
The drive to the warehouse takes exactly fourteen minutes, during which I force myself to think about damage control instead of the way Alyssa looked emerging from the pool like some kind of water goddess.
My brothers are going to need me focused, not distracted by memories of wet lace and soft skin.
The warehouse looks like a crime scene from the outside, which it technically is. Police cars line the street, their flashing lights painting the building in alternating red and blue. Dimitri meets me at the entrance with a scowl on his face.
“How bad?” I ask.
“Bad enough. The bodies are clean; no identification, no fingers or teeth, and no obvious cause of death. Someone wanted them found but didn’t want them traced.”
“Any idea who?”
“Working on it. Grigor’s inside with the detective in charge, working his charm. Aleksei’s handling the media angle, making sure this doesn’t hit the morning news. Akim’s coordinating with our cleanup crew.”
“And Nikolai?”
“Someone had to stay with the wives and the kids. Grigor insisted.”
Good. Keeping the women and children safe is always the priority.
Inside the warehouse, the scene is controlled chaos.
Police officers take photos and measurements while our people work to minimize the damage to our reputation.
The three bodies are laid out on tarps, and the stench of death hits me so hard I have to cover my nose with the inside of my elbow. I’ll never get used to that smell.
“Execution style,” Grigor explains when I join him near the detective. “Single shots to the back of the head, no signs of struggle. These men were killed elsewhere and dumped here.”
“Anyone we recognize?”
“That’s the interesting part. Two of them are from the Kozlov family, one’s from the Ukrainians. Someone’s trying to start a war between them and pin it on us.”
The implications make my blood run cold.
The Kozlovs and Ukrainians have been circling each other like hungry wolves for months, looking for an excuse to settle old scores.
If they think we’re playing both sides against the middle, we’ll have two enemy organizations to deal with instead of staying neutral.
Detective Maddox approaches us, a heavyset man in his fifties who’s been on our payroll for the better part of a decade. “We’re going to get this scene processed quickly. Too many uniforms here means too many questions, and we have enough officers here as it is.”
“How quickly can you get it done?” Dimitri asks.
“Two hours, maybe three if we’re lucky. After that, I can’t guarantee containment.”
Two hours to figure out who’s trying to frame us and why, then make the problem disappear before it becomes a war. Just another Tuesday night in the Barkov family business.
We spend the next hour coordinating with our contacts in the coroner’s office, the crime lab, and various city departments that owe us favors. The beauty of running a legitimate business empire alongside our less legal ventures is that we have friends in every corner of the bureaucracy.
Akim pulls me aside while Grigor handles the political aspects. “I’ve got teams checking all our other properties. If someone’s targeting our operations, this might not be the only surprise they’ve left for us.”
“What about the clubs?”
“Clean so far. Same with the restaurants and the shipping offices. What about Ravenshollow? Maybe your houseguest should stay somewhere else until this blows over.”
“No,” I snap before I can catch myself. “She stays with me.”
Akim raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. He knows better than to question a brother’s decisions about protecting what’s his, even when those decisions might not be tactically sound.
By the time we finish coordinating the cleanup, the sun is starting to set, and I’m practically vibrating with impatience to get home to Alyssa.
My brothers don’t seem to notice my distraction; thankfully, they’re too busy coordinating follow-up investigations and discussing potential retaliation strategies.
“We should increase security at all our primary locations,” Grigor suggests as we walk back to our cars. “If someone’s testing our defenses, they might escalate.”
“Already on it,” Dimitri replies. “I’ve got teams doubling patrols at the docks, the club, and the main office building.”
“What about residential properties?” Aleksei asks.
The question makes my blood run cold. If someone’s targeting our family businesses, it’s only a matter of time before they start looking at our homes.
“I’ll handle Ravenshollow,” I quickly interject. “Increase the perimeter security, add more cameras.”
“Everything okay there?” Dimitri questions. “You seem distracted tonight.”
Shit. I really thought they didn’t notice.
“Just tired. It’s been a long day.”
“Right.” Grigor grins like he knows something I don’t want him to know. “So, when do we get to meet her?”
“You don’t.”
“Come on, Maksim. We’re curious about the woman who’s got you so twisted up you’re declining family dinners.”
“I’m not twisted up.”
“Sure you’re not.” Aleksei laughs. “That’s why you’ve been checking your phone every five minutes for the past three hours.”
Have I been doing that? Probably. The thought of Alyssa alone in my house, even with Harrison and security, makes me nervous in ways I can’t entirely explain.
“She’s been through a traumatic experience,” I deflect. “She needs time to adjust before being subjected to the Barkov family experience.”
“Fair enough,” Dimitri concedes.
We part ways in the parking lot, and I drive home faster than I probably should, eager to see Alyssa and confirm that she’s safe. The house is quiet when I arrive; most of the staff are either asleep or discreetly absent, but the living room lights are on.
I find her curled up on one of the leather sofas, wearing what appears to be one of my shirts over a pair of yoga pants Harrison must have procured for her. She’s reading a book from my library, and the sight of her looking so perfectly at home in my space makes me inexplicably content.
“You’re back,” she notes as she looks up with obvious relief. “I was worried.”
“I told you it was just family business.”
“I know, but you left so quickly, and you looked…” She shrugs and adds, “You looked scared.”
Scared. Not a word usually associated with me, but maybe she’s more perceptive than I gave her credit for. The thought of someone targeting my family, targeting her by extension, does scare the hell out of me.
“Everything’s fine now,” I lie as I settle onto the sofa beside her. “What are you reading?”
She holds up a leather-bound volume of Tolstoy. “War and Peace. Seemed appropriate, given my current circumstances.”
“Enjoying it?”
“It’s depressing as hell, but beautifully written. What was the emergency? Really?”
“Business dispute,” I answer carefully.
She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she doesn’t push either. Instead, she reaches over and touches my hand.
“You look exhausted. Have you eaten anything?”
“No, actually. I haven’t.”
“Then let’s fix that.” She stands up, tugging on my hand. “Come on. I’ll make you something.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to. Besides, I’ve been exploring your kitchen, and it’s basically a restaurant back there. I’ve been dying to try it out.”