Chapter 12 #2
Max answered with an agitated growl. “What do you want, Sasha? I’m kind of busy.” He stayed silent and frustrated, letting Sasha talk. But then he snapped. “Are you serious? Then deal with her.”
Sasha said something else. There was another pause, and for whatever reason, this one felt longer.
“What do you mean? Where is she? Why won’t she move?”
I straightened slightly, tilting my head as I watched Max’s frustration grow.
“She’s still sitting there?” Max asked. “Well, how long has it been?”
Sasha’s response made his jaw tighten.
“Seven?” Max echoed. “Seven fucking hours? I thought you were good at this.”
My mouth twitched into something that felt like a smile, though I tried to keep it down.
Max gave me a sideways look as he pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment. “Unbelievable,” he muttered before bringing it back to his ear. “Fine. Leave her there. I’ll handle it.”
When he ended the call, he slipped his phone into the pocket of his jacket and stood there for a moment looking confused. Finally, he turned to look at me fully and said, “She’s sitting on a bench.”
“A bench,” I repeated, arching an eyebrow.
“Sasha took her on a run this morning. He said she stopped around the halfway mark and decided she wasn’t going to move. He waited for hours for her to get up. He even tried to drag her up, but every time he touched her, she started screaming for help as if he were trying to abduct her.”
I couldn’t help the chuckle that fell out.
“You think this is funny?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said honestly, leaning back in my chair. “A little.”
“Of course you do,” Max muttered, running a hand over his face.
I didn’t say anything, but my mind wandered to her sitting there on some random bench, arms crossed, chin tilted up in that way she looked when she was daring the world to push her.
It was stupid. Ridiculous, even.
I admired it.
Most people in her position would’ve folded. They’d have begged, bartered, broken under the pressure. Not her. She pushed back even when it was self-destructive. Especially when it was self-destructive.
It wasn’t smart. Hell, it wasn’t even productive.
“Diego stays,” Max said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I’ll figure out what to do with him later.”
I nodded, standing and adjusting my jacket. “Fair enough.”
I’d made it halfway to the door when Max’s voice stopped me.
“Marco.”
I turned, one eyebrow raised. “What now?”
“Would you pick her up?”
“No.”
When I reached the door, my hand rested there, hesitating to turn the handle.
I didn’t want to get involved. I shouldn’t get involved.
I wasn’t assigned to deal with Valentina’s tantrums. Seven hours on a bench?
I couldn’t handle someone stubborn enough to spend seven hours on a bench.
I hadn’t even thought that level of stubbornness possible, and I’d dealt with some truly obstinate people in my time.
“She’s not my problem,” I said, more to myself than to Max.
“No. But you’re the only one I know who could deal with her. You don’t bring emotion into it. You won’t let her sit there like Sasha did.”
I turned slightly, narrowing my eyes at him.
I could’ve walked out. Said no. Let someone else deal with it.
So why was I still standing there?
I didn’t say anything for a moment. Max didn’t push. He never did. He just waited.
Finally, I sighed, turning back to face him fully. “What’s the address?”
Max smirked faintly, pulling out his phone and typing something. A moment later, mine buzzed in my pocket.
I didn’t say anything as I pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway. The sound of my footsteps echoed faintly against the walls, each one a reminder I could’ve said no.
She didn’t want help. Didn’t need it. Most people would call it childish, but watching her dig her heels in like that, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something else. A refusal to surrender to anything, even common sense.
The drive to the park took longer than I thought it would. Maybe it was the traffic that made it feel so far away. That, or the fact I had no desire to be here. Either way, by the time I’d found a parking spot and started walking, I was already annoyed.
Seven hours. How crazy did someone have to be to sit in the same spot for seven hours? What was she even getting out of this? Why was I the one who had to handle it?
Eventually, I spotted them further down the sidewalk. Sasha stood a few feet away from her with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked down at Valentina as if he wanted to strangle her. He probably did.
Still, even with him staring at her, she stayed planted on that bench, her head tilted high in defiance.
I could feel the heat radiating between the two of them even from this distance. It was almost impressive, the way she managed to run a grown man down.
I took my time walking over, tucking my hands in the pockets of my slacks. Sasha noticed me first, and his expression shifted slightly.
“Finally,” he hissed through his teeth.
My attention fell to Valentina. She was clearly trying to make a point of ignoring me. I found it mildly entertaining.
She wore a blue Knicks sweater, oversize and probably stolen from someone else’s closet. Her hair, which was too long for anyone’s good, was tied into a ponytail that cascaded halfway down her back.
Sasha stepped toward me, ready to argue about how difficult she’d been all day. “She’s impossible. Doesn’t listen. I’ve tried everything.”
“I can see that,” I said dryly.
He blew out a sigh that sounded desperate. “She yells if I try to move her. Says I’m harassing her. People are starting to notice.”
“Of course they are,” I muttered. “You are harassing her.”
Sasha shot me a look. I could tell he didn’t expect me to call him out. But it was the truth. Valentina’s defiance had been clear for hours—anyone could see she wasn’t about to budge. Sasha, however, seemed to have missed the memo entirely.
“Yeah?” he asked angrily. “Well, what the hell do you suggest then? Because she’s not budging.”
I pushed past him and stepped right in front of Valentina—so close the tips of her shoes brushed mine. “Seven hours,” I finally said, demanding her attention. Shockingly, she gave it to me. “Do you really have nothing better to do?”
“I’m just fine here, thanks,” she said with an attitude so sweet it made my teeth grind.
I leaned down slightly. “You’ve made your point. Now get up.”
She tilted her head. “What point is that?”
“That you’re stubborn, childish, and a pain in the ass,” I said, my patience thinning. “Now move, before I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here.”
Her mouth opened. It closed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I considered it.
And I definitely would.
Sasha whispered something in Russian under his breath.
This wasn’t his problem anymore. It was mine. For some reason, I’d let it become mine.
“You’re testing me,” I told her.
“Maybe.”
“That’s not a good idea, Valentina.” I leaned in, my breath a whispered threat. “Unlike Sasha here, I don’t care how loud you scream.”
I saw the hesitation take over her smug pride. Still, she didn’t budge.
People were staring now. Great.
I didn’t have all day, and I definitely wasn’t sticking around long enough for someone to call the cops. So I leaned down, hooked an arm around her waist, and tossed her over my shoulder without giving her time to think about it.
She sucked in a quick breath like she couldn’t believe I’d actually done it. “Marco! Are you serious right now? Put me down!” Her fists immediately started beating into my back—hard little punches that were more annoying than painful. Her heels dug in, knees knocking against my ribs as she kicked.
I tightened my grip and ignored her, walking steadily back to my car even as she squirmed and cursed.
My hand settled lower, dangerously close to her ass, and suddenly, that was all I could think about: how soft she felt even through the fabric of her leggings.
How easy it would be to slide my palm down another inch and slap some sense into her—just enough to make her think twice about pulling this shit again.
She huffed something under her breath and wriggled harder, forcing me to squeeze even tighter. “Watch your hand, lawyer,” she snapped.
“Then stay still,” I demanded.
Of course she didn’t. She squirmed again, her nails digging through my suit jacket, still hitting me like it would change anything.
I closed my eyes briefly, trying to ignore the way her movements pressed her body flush against mine.
Her curves were impossible to ignore—hips that flared perfectly beneath my grip, her body warm and soft against my shoulder.
Even as she tried her hardest to piss me off, she somehow made me wonder what she’d feel like under different circumstances.
What kind of sounds she’d make if I ever put my hands on her the way I wanted to.
Christ, now I was the one who needed some sense knocked into me.
Focus. Car. Get her home. Deal with this mess later.
“Put me down,” she demanded. “I won’t run.”
I almost laughed. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe that?”
“I promise.”
“I don’t believe your promises either.”
By the time I’d got her near the car, she’d stopped hitting me—finally. That didn’t mean she wasn’t still moving restlessly, more out of pride than in a genuine attempt to break free.
I finally set her on her feet next to the passenger door. She stumbled a little, dizzy from being upside down for so long, and I instinctively grabbed her waist to steady her. A mistake, probably. My hands lingered longer than they needed to—longer than they should have done.
She looked up at me with narrowed eyes. For a second I thought she was going to say something. Maybe thank me, but more likely curse me out. Instead she just pulled away and glared.
“Get in,” I said, opening the car door wider.
She didn’t respond.
“Valentina,” I warned. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”