Chapter 12 - Alyssa
The trembling won’t stop, no matter how tightly I wrap my arms around myself.
I stand at the window, staring out at the city while my body betrays me with every violent shake. The adrenaline has nowhere to go now that we’re safe, and it’s eating me alive from the inside out. My teeth chatter despite how warm it is in here, and I bite down hard to make them stop.
“Alyssa.” Maksim’s voice comes from behind me, pulling me from my mind. “Come here.”
“I’m fine,” I lie with a dismissive wave.
“No, you’re not.”
I turn to face him, and the concern written on his face almost undoes me. There’s something about him right now, something that makes my defenses want to crumble all around me.
“I said I’m fine,” I repeat, but my voice loses its edge on the last word.
“You’re in shock.” He takes a step closer, and I notice how careful he’s being not to crowd me. “It’s normal after what just happened.”
“Normal?” I let out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. “Nothing about this is normal, Maksim. I almost died tonight because of you.”
The words are meant to hurt, to push him away, but instead of anger, I see pain flash across his face. Real pain, not the manipulation I’ve come to expect from dangerous men.
“You’re right,” he concedes, even though we both know this is my fault, not his. “And I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix this.”
“No, it doesn’t.” He inches even closer, and this time, I don’t back away. “But let me try to help you anyway.”
Before I can protest, his arms come around me in a gentle embrace that steals the breath from my lungs.
I want to resist. I want to push him away and maintain the distance I’ve worked so hard to create.
Instead, my body betrays me by sagging against his chest like I’ve been waiting for this moment all night.
“I’ve got you,” he mumbles against my hair, and the simple words break something loose inside me.
The tears come without warning, hot and fast down my cheeks. I cry for the fear, for the violence, for the impossible situation I’ve found myself in. Maksim doesn’t say anything; he just holds me while I fall apart in his arms.
“I hate this,” I whisper against his shirt. “I hate feeling so helpless.”
“You’re not helpless. You’re alive, and that’s all that matters right now.”
“But for how long?” I pull back enough to look at him, and the tears make everything blurry. “How long before they try again? How long before someone succeeds?”
His hands come up to cup my face, and his thumbs brush away the moisture on my cheeks. “As long as I’m breathing, nothing will happen to you. I promise.”
“Promises are easy to make.”
“Not for me.”
There’s something in his voice that makes me believe him, despite everything logic tells me about trusting criminals. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me, like I’m something precious that needs protecting. Maybe it’s the way his hands shake as they hold my face.
“Tell me about your world,” I suddenly prompt. “The real truth this time. All of it.”
“Alyssa—”
“No more protecting me from information. If I’m going to be dragged into this, I need to know what I’m dealing with.”
He studies my face for a long moment before offering one curt nod. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything. Start with your family’s business.”
Maksim releases my face but keeps one hand on my arm, like he’s afraid I’ll bolt if he lets go. “We’re involved in shipping, mostly. Import and export through the docks. Some of it is legitimate, some of it isn’t.”
“What kind of illegitimate?”
“Weapons, mostly. Nothing too exotic, but enough to keep certain people happy. We also provide security services for people who can’t go to the police.”
“You mean you hurt people for money.”
“Sometimes. When they deserve it.”
The honesty should horrify me, but instead, I appreciate that he’s finally being direct. “What else?”
“Money laundering through our legitimate businesses. Protection for smaller operations that want to stay independent. Territory disputes that need mediating.”
“Drugs?”
“No.” His answer is immediate and solid. “My family doesn’t deal drugs. Ever.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’ve seen what that poison does to communities. My father made that rule when he was still alive, and we’ve never broken it.”
Something in his tone tells me there’s more to that story, but I don’t push. “What about… other things? Human trafficking?”
The disgust that crosses his face is genuine. “Absolutely not. Anyone who touches that trade becomes our enemy on the spot.”
“But you do torture people.”
“When necessary,” he repeats from earlier. “Usually, people who hurt innocent civilians or try to muscle in on our territory. Jordan Portelli was selling information that could have started a war.”
“And you think that justifies what I saw?”
“I think sometimes violence is the only language certain people understand.” He traces a circle on my arm with his thumb, and the touch is soothing despite the subject matter. “I have sisters-in-law now, Alyssa. Female cousins. We protect our women, and we only go after the bad guys.”
“You really love them?”
“More than anything. They’re why I do this, why I take the risks. Everything is about keeping the family safe.”
“Including me?”
“Especially you.”
“I’m not family,” I point out before I hold my breath, as if my statement could change his mind.
“You could be.”
I should be terrified by the implication. I should run screaming from a man who’s talking about forever after knowing me for just a few weeks. Instead, warmth spreads through my chest like honey.
“Maksim…”
“I know it’s crazy. I know we barely know each other. But what I feel for you…” He trails off, shaking his head. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Attraction isn’t love.”
“No, but it’s a start.”
He moves his hand from my arm to my waist, pulling me closer until there’s barely any space between us. I should step away, maintain the boundaries I’ve tried so hard to establish. Instead, I let him draw me in until his body heat seeps into my skin.
“This is a bad idea,” I whisper.
“Probably.”
“We’re in an impossible situation.”
“I know.”
“I still don’t trust you.”
“I know that too.”
He brings his other hand up to tangle in my hair, and suddenly, I can’t remember why trusting him seems so important. All I can think about is the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Alyssa,” he murmurs, and my name on his lips sounds like a prayer.
“We shouldn’t—”
“Tell me to stop,” he interrupts, though his voice is rough with want. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
I open my mouth to do exactly that, but the words won’t come. Instead, I reach up and trace the line of his jaw with my fingertips, marveling at the way his eyes flutter closed at the simple touch.
“I can’t,” I admit.
“Can’t what?”
“Can’t tell you to stop.”
Something dark and hungry comes alive in his eyes, and before I can change my mind, his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is reserved at first, gentle in the best of ways, like he’s giving me one last chance to pull away.
When I don’t, when I instead inch closer and part my lips beneath his, he slides his tongue into my mouth with a groan that vibrates through my entire body.
His hands frame my face as he kisses me thoroughly, completely, like he’s trying to memorize how I taste. I lose myself in the sensation, in the way he touches me like I’m made of something rare and breakable.
When we finally break apart, we’re both gasping for air. My lips feel swollen, and there’s a heat building in my core that has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with want.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I saw you in that back alley,” he confesses against my mouth.
“Just kiss me?”
His smile is wicked and full of promise. “That was just the beginning.”
Before I can ask what he means, he’s lifting me in his arms and carrying me toward the bedroom. My heart pounds with anticipation and nerves as he sets me down beside the massive bed.
“Are you sure?” he asks as his hands settle on my hips.
Instead of answering with words, I reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head. The sight of his bare chest steals the breath from my lungs—hard muscle and tattoos and masculine beauty that makes my mouth go dry.
“Fuck, Alyssa,” he breathes, and then his mouth is on mine again.
This time, there’s nothing gentle about it. He kisses me like a man starving while his hands roam my body with a fervor that sets my skin on fire. When his fingers find the buttons of my blouse, I don’t stop him. I want this; I want him, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
He works the buttons one by one, and his knuckles brush against my skin with each one he frees. The excitement is torture in the best possible way, and by the time he pushes the fabric off my shoulders, I’m trembling again—but not from fear.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as his eyes drink in the sight of me in my bra. “So fucking perfect.”
He traces the curve of my shoulders before his fingers glide down my arms with a feather-light touch that makes my breath catch. The way he touches me is different from anyone before—like he’s memorizing every detail, every response. When he grazes the sensitive skin on my wrists, I shiver.
Then he moves his hands up to cup my breasts through the lace, and he brushes his thumbs over my nipples until they peak into pebbles under the fabric. I arch into his touch with a soft moan, and the sound seems to spur him into motion.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks. His mouth finds the hollow of my throat, where he presses kisses that make my pulse race. “Every time you look at me, every time you say my name, I lose a little more control.”