13. Maks
13
MAKS
T he meeting with Lucian went well, and as I ride the elevator back up to my condo, excitement expands in my chest when I think about our plan. Thanks to Lindsey’s recon, we’ve managed to put one together in just under three weeks that I actually believe could work. The floor shifts beneath me as it reaches the penthouse, and the doors slide open.
Loosening my tie, I head down the hall toward the back of the house, and my ear catches the sound of Lindsey working before I reach the bedroom. I don’t think she’s aware of it, but she hums when she’s focused on a project, and it makes me smile as I pause outside the master bedroom for a beat to see if I can identify the tune. It sounds like one that’s popular at the clubs right now, and that makes my smile widen. Her choice of tunes ranges across so many genres, I never know what I’ll happen upon from day to day.
Unlocking the French doors, I twist the handle and let one side swing open as I step inside.
Lindsey’s Baltic-blue eyes find mine as she swivels in her seat, her tune cutting off abruptly, and her expression brightens when she sees me. “What’s got you all happy?” she asks.
I hadn’t thought about the fact that I’m still smiling before I entered, but I don’t want to let her in on how much I enjoy catching her humming because she might stop if I bring it to her attention, so I shrug. “The plan’s coming together nicely.”
The tension I used to spot around her eyes when I talked about killing Emiliano hasn’t been there since he came onto her in his office, and she just nods. “That’s great.”
“How’s your day going?” I nod toward her laptop where I’ve agreed to let her work remotely with the stipulation that she would only have internet access while I’m home and can check any emails or communications before she reads them or sends them out. It’s the best compromise I could think of, but I know Lindsey is growing restless the longer she’s kept from work.
“I’ve finished my new proposal, which I need to send out today.” She glances at the clock. “Do you have time to look it over and send it out now?”
“Sure.”
She pulls up the emails she’s written and talks me through what she wants to send, and I collect her laptop and take it to my office, where I keep the modem, Lindsey trailing behind to make sure I do everything she said. The practice has become routine at this point, and if it’s what makes her imprisonment more manageable, I don’t mind doing it. The sigh of relief she releases as I finish sending off her work tells me it’s worth it, and I check to make sure everything went through before disconnecting the modem once more.
“Are you done working for the day?” I ask.
“I want to wrap up a few things and check any emails I got. Then I should be done.” Lindsey stays where she was, and as I stand, the space narrows between us until she’s peering up at me through her thick lashes.
That electrical current that’s only grown stronger between us in the last few weeks comes to life as I study her face. The makeup she put on for her night at the club has long since worn off, and somehow, though her lashes are lighter than they were then, her lips a more natural pink, I find her even more stunning than when I first laid eyes on her. She’s a natural beauty—and since the night she let me kiss her, that’s only made it more impossible to keep my hands off her.
We seem to have come to a silent understanding in that regard—that as long as we’re sharing the same bed, we might as well take advantage of the chemistry between us. Fighting it was unbearable, and after the first night we broke that pillow barrier, she never put it back up. Thank fuck, because the more I’m around Lindsey, the more I want her. My urge to possess her grows stronger every day, and while I know I’ll need to let her go once Emiliano is dead, until then, I’m hoping I can get this insatiable craving out of my system.
“My computer?” Lindsey breathes, her eyes never leaving mine as her fingers brush across mine to curl around the edges of her laptop.
“What will you give me for it?” I tease, smirking as I step closer to her.
“A thank you?” she suggests, and I chuckle, relinquishing the device.
But as she hugs it to her chest with one arm, she rises onto her toes and wraps her free hand around the back of my neck, pressing her body against mine as she gives me a soft, lingering kiss. Dropping my hands to her hips, I pull her closer as I deepen the kiss.
“Now that’s more like it,” I growl before going back in for more.
Lindsey’s lips curve into a smile, and she sinks back onto the flats of her feet. “I really should get a bit more work done. I’m so far behind.”
A twinge of guilt tightens my stomach because my taking her prisoner is the reason she needs to catch up, and I nod, releasing her reluctantly, then I follow her back out of the office, locking the door behind me. Now that I’m home, I’ll give her more freedom to move about the house, but still, Lindsey chooses to work at the desk we set up in the master bedroom and she heads back that way. I turn toward the kitchen, ready for a drink to unwind. On a typical Friday, I would be at the Dungeon, enjoying the energy and the atmosphere, but somehow, it doesn’t feel right to stay out late when I’m keeping Lindsey locked up here. Not to mention, I find her company far more enjoyable than most of the people I would invite to join me in the VIP section.
Turning on the sound system, I take a moment to indulge in the Russian chanson before heading to the bar to pour myself a chilled vodka. Lenka, my personal chef, is busy at work in the kitchen, the scent of slow-cooking beef wafting to my nose.
“Smells wonderful,” I say, raising my glass to my lips.
Lenka beams, her narrow, weathered cheeks lifting as her eyes crinkle affectionately. “Thank you, gospodin .”
I tip my ear toward the door as I catch the soft ding announcing the elevator’s arrival at my floor, and my eyes narrow as my pulse gives a slight jump. I don’t think Lindsey would be rash enough to risk making a break for it again, but the possibility is never far from my mind. Not that she would get far if she did. My men guard all the building’s entrances and know to keep a careful eye out for her. Still, my feet carry me toward the entry.
“Hello, djadja ?”
Warmth surges through my chest, and I stride more purposefully toward the foyer. “Kira, I didn’t know you were coming by today.”
My niece’s smile is wide and radiant as I set my glass of vodka down on the entry table and lift her off her feet in a bear hug. She’s nearly seventeen now and growing up before my very eyes it seems. She’s beautiful, with her mother’s long raven hair and crystal-blue eyes, but she’s taller than Leanna ever grew to be.
“I think you’ve grown a few more inches since winter break,” I observe as I set her back on her feet and hold her at an arm’s length.
Kira laughs. “It’s the boots.” She tips her heels to show me the decent-sized wedge.
“Oh good. I was going to have to insist you visit more often otherwise.”
She rolls her eyes. “I visit as often as the school lets me, djadja . You make it sound like I’ve abandoned you to wither away all alone or something.”
“Come on in. Lenka’s making dinner, and I want to hear how the new semester’s going. You want something to drink?”
“A glass of wine sounds wonderful.”
I can hear the playful edge in her tone, but that doesn’t stop me from giving her a withering glare as I pause on my way to the kitchen.
Kira smiles impishly. Her humor’s getting sharper, quicker, and it reminds me of her mother’s. God, Leanna knew how to make me laugh.
“Alright, alright. Kidding. Tea would be nice though.”
I don’t even make it to the stove before Lanka’s passing me a steaming mug of liquid with the tab of a tea bag hanging over the side. I love how much the older woman feels like a part of the family. She’s made caring for Kira far less daunting over the years.
“Thanks, Lenka.”
She just nods, her lips pressing into a warm smile.
Heading back out to the living room, I hand Kira her tea and settle onto the couch next to her with my vodka. “So, tell me about school.”
It doesn’t take a lot to get my niece started, and I study her face as she chatters happily about her friends and what classes she’s enjoying, how her junior year is far harder than she anticipated, which is why she’s not coming home as much this year. I nod along, adding beats where she’ll let me. It’s nice to hear how good she sounds, more calm and confident than she has since Emiliano took everything from her and left her a broken, terrified little girl.
“I think Ms. Henry is my favorite, though. She just gets us, and she’s always happy to take time after class if I need help understanding the math.”
“That’s great. Are you still taking choir?”
“Actually, I went for art this time. That’s been really fun so far. I’m learning how to sculpt, and playing with the clay is way more fun than I’d anticipated.”
She mimics the motion with her hands, and I have to fight the urge to chuckle as my lips part in a smile I can’t contain.
“Maks, I?—”
My head snaps in Lindsey’s direction as her voice cuts off abruptly and she freezes at the entrance to the hall, her eyes fixed on Kira.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was interrupting.” Color tints her cheeks, and I catch a flicker of what looks like hurt or rejection before she fixes her face into a look of polite curiosity.
“You didn’t tell me you have a girl over!” Kira exclaims, jumping up off the couch and setting her mug down on the coffee table as she turns to face Lindsey.
“I’m not—” Lindsey starts at the same time as I say, “This is?—”
We break off together, and Lindsey’s blush intensifies as Kira looks between us.
“Kira, this is Lindsey. Lindsey, this is my niece, Kira.”
“Oh,” Lindsey says, then understanding lights her eyes as they shift back to Kira. “Oooh, of course. It’s wonderful to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
She strides forward to shake Kira’s hand, and Kira accepts it with a smile.
“You have?”
“Yes, Maks has nothing but good things to say about you. He let me borrow a few of your books—I hope that’s alright. I have to say, I love your choice of reading material.”
Kira giggles. “I’m glad you like it.”
The smile they share makes me wonder if I’m not missing something about the exchange, but before I dare to ask, Kira’s moving on.
“Are you here for dinner? Sorry, if I’d realized djadja had company. I wouldn’t have come barging in.”
“You’re always welcome here, Kira. This is your home. You know that.”
Kira beams at me, then looks back at Lindsey, to make sure she’s not imposing.
“Yeah, I’d love to get to know you,” she says. “How long are you staying?”
“I just thought I’d stop by for a good home-cooked meal. No one knows how to cook quite like Lenka”
Lindsey nods, and as if she heard her name, my personal-chef-slash-self-designated-foster mother-to-Kira steps out of the kitchen.
“Dinner’s served,” she says.
“Perfect timing.” Kira claps her hands and leads the way toward the dining table, with Lindsey following and me bringing up the rear.
The bowls of dark broth steam as we sit down around the table, Lindsey and Kira sitting across from each other as I take the head of the table.
“So,” Lindsey starts as I take a bite of rich, savory stew, relishing the perfectly cooked spoonful of carrot, potato, and shredded beef. “You’re related through Maks’s… sister?”
She draws out the word ‘sister’ as she fishes for the right answer, and Kira nods around her mouthful of food.
“Do you and your mom live nearby, then?”
Kira coughs as she accidentally swallows her unchewed bite and covers her mouth with her napkin as she tries to collect herself.
“Leanna was killed when Kira was young,” I say, keeping the answer short and direct to hopefully keep Lindsey from digging deeper. “Kira’s currently enrolled in an all-girls private boarding school.”
Judging by the color of Lindsey’s cheeks, I think my blunt response worked, and she looks at Kira apologetically. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine.” Kira waves away her concern. “Like my uncle said, it was a long time ago. I don’t really remember my mom or my life before djadja became my ward.”
Lindsey glances in my direction, surprise flitting across her face, then she nods and takes a bite of soup as silence settles over the room. “So, boarding school. What’s that like?” she asks after a long pause.
For the rest of dinner, Lindsey seems to intentionally steer the conversation toward safer topics as she keeps Kira engaged in conversation, and I’m content to sit back and listen, happy to hear about my niece’s experiences at school, her friends, her current interests. She and Lindsey seem to connect on more than one level, gushing about music artists they both enjoy or characters they like from the books they’ve read. It’s nice to hear Kira be enthusiastic about something—even if I have no clue who she and Lindsey are talking about most of the night. There was a time I wasn’t sure Kira would ever find peace after what happened, but listening to her with Lindsey gives me hope that my niece hasn’t gotten trapped in the past.
Her affection for my temporary house guest is easy to see as well, and I’m glad Kira doesn’t dive into who Lindsey is to me or why she’s here, because I don’t like lying, so I have no clue what I would have said if she asked. But it warms my chest to see Lindsey putting in the time and effort to get my niece to open up. It’s the happiest I’ve seen Kira in such a long time. I could picture her and Lindsey becoming quick friends if the opportunity presented itself, and by the end of the night, as we walk Kira out, my niece even pulls Lindsey in for a hug goodbye.
“It was so nice to meet you, Lindsey. I hope I see you again,” she gushes before releasing her.
Lindsey smiles, the look so warm and genuine, it makes me realize the full potential of her affection. But I don’t have time to dwell on it as Kira turns her megawatt smile in my direction.
“I love you, djadja .” She squeezes my hands in the same way she has since she was a little girl, and as she rises onto her toes to kiss my cheek, Kira whispers, “I like her. I hope she sticks around.” Then, with a swirl of her long dark hair, she marches into the elevator before the doors close.
“I adore your niece,” Lindsey says as soon as we’re alone.
I smile. “She’d be pretty hard not to love,” I agree.
We head back into the living room, settling onto the couch to finish our wine from dinner, and Lindsey stares thoughtfully out the window at the cityscape below.
“You never told me what happened to her mom,” she says softly, her eyes sad as she turns to look at me.
I nod. “It’s part of the risk that comes with being a part of my world. My father had many enemies, so to hit him where it hurt, one of our rivals took both my sister and my mother. They killed Kira’s father in the process and sent us back Leanna and my mother’s heads as a message.”
Lindsey’s face pales, and she swallows hard. “Did it work? Did you get the message?”
I study her eyes closely, gauging the fear and horror there. I find compassion, too—enough to know she’s considering what that loss meant for me, for Kira, for my family—and it makes my chest tighten. “Not the one they intended. But it did ensure that every last Chekov in Chicago was wiped off the face of the earth. That was my father’s last act as pakhan before he handed his legacy over to me.”
“And where is he now?”
“Dead.”
Silence settles heavily between us as Lindsey appears to be wrapping her mind around the death that surrounds me. I can see the gears turning behind her eyes as she calculates the risk that comes from being close to me. Good. She needs to know—to understand why she and I will never be more than what we are right now.
“What happened to my sister and mother convinced me not to marry,” I state solemnly. “Women in my world only ever end up hurt or dead—what Emiliano did to Kira only reinforced that fact.”
Tears shimmer in Lindsey’s eyes, and she nods, swiping her fingers beneath her glasses to catch the moisture before it falls. “But you choose to stay in this world—even knowing how dangerous it is?”
“Someone has to rule the underworld,” I state darkly. “At least this way, I get to decide which monsters live and which ones die.”
The air feels heavy as she considers my words. After taking a sip of her wine, she sets the glass down and looks out the window once more.
“Earlier this evening, when I was talking to Kira out here, did you come looking for me for a reason?” I ask, switching topics before the discussion can get any darker.
“Oh. Yes.” She bites her lip, drawing my eyes to their pink fullness. “I got an email from my boss today. He’s not happy about how long I’ve been out of the office and how limited my availability is. I was hoping we could talk about me going back to work.” Lindsey squirms uncomfortably when I don’t answer right away. “I could lose my job, Maks. Being sick won’t work as an excuse indefinitely. You’ve kept me long enough that my boss is getting suspicious.”
Guilt gnaws at my stomach, and I toss back the rest of my wine before setting the glass on the table. “I can’t let you go,” I state, clenching my teeth hard enough that they ache.
“Maks, please. Haven’t I proven my loyalty yet? I got the information you needed. I’ve stayed here without complaint for weeks, working within whatever parameters you’ll allow me. I haven’t tried to run again. I won’t , and I swear I won’t say anything?—”
“The answer’s no, Lindsey. I can’t risk it. Too much is at stake.”
“This is so unfair!” she bursts, shoving off the couch as her hands ball into fists. “Why am I the one paying the price for your revenge? I never wanted to be a part of this in the first place!”
“This isn’t just about you telling people what you know anymore,” I counter. It is part of my consideration, but I’m less concerned about Lindsey talking after Emiliano gave her a taste of the twisted shit he’s capable of. Honestly, I’m more concerned about what he or Lucian might do to her now that they’ve seen her face. “People know who you are now, Lindsey. Emiliano, for one—the Italians I’m working with for another. I can’t just let you walk out that door and assume you’ll be safe. I would think you’d take that more seriously after you’re the one who came running back to me for protection.”
Lindsey looks struck. Whatever she wanted to say dies on her lips as they part but no sound comes out.