Chapter 2 #2
Milana’s hand is ice-cold in mine. I can feel her trembling. Maxim stands relaxed against the wall, looking almost bored, like this is just another Tuesday night for him.
When the doors open on Artyom’s floor, we’re greeted by even more guns. At least six of my brother’s men are waiting, weapons raised and aimed directly at Maxim and his guard.
Maxim doesn’t even blink.
“Get those out of my face and lead the way to Artyom,” he says, voice smooth and commanding.
The guards exchange uneasy glances but comply, keeping their guns trained on him as they escort us down the hallway toward my brother’s office.
My heart is still racing.
Whatever this debt is, whatever Maxim Orlov wants… we’re about to find out. And my brother is about to get so pissed at us for sneaking off to a club.
It’s not long after we step into Artyom’s office and he arrives from home looking worried. His steel-gray eyes lock onto Milana and me first, scanning us from head to toe, checking for injuries.
“Calina, Milana, are you okay?”
“Yes,” we both answer at the same time.
The relief that flickers across his face is brief, and gone in less than a heartbeat. Then his expression hardens into pure ice. He draws his gun in one smooth motion and points it straight at Maxim’s head.
“Give me one good reason not to put a bullet in you right now,” Artyom says, voice deadly calm.
Maxim doesn’t look even a bit bothered. He drawls, “That would be a very stupid thing to do, considering I currently have your sisters.”
“They’re here now,” Artyom replies coldly, finger steady on the trigger. “I could end you before you even blink.”
Maxim lets out a low, almost bored sigh and walks straight past the guns pointed at him. He drops onto the leather couch like he owns the room, crossing one leg over the other with casual arrogance.
“Why don’t you and your men put your toys away so we can talk about why I’m really here?”
Artyom’s jaw clenches so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t crack. I can see the fury rolling off him in waves. He wants to shoot Maxim. Badly. His knuckles are white around the grip of the gun.
“You have some fucking nerve coming in here like this, Maxim,” Artyom growls.
Maxim waves a dismissive hand. “You talk too much. Now I see it runs in the family.”
Artyom looks like he’s about to burst an artery. He takes a threatening step forward. “You have one minute. Start talking.”
Maxim leans back against the couch, completely relaxed, and finally speaks without emotion, like he’s discussing the weather.
“Vladimir Morozov owed my family a blood debt. He killed my adoptive father, Oleg Orlov. After the murder, a contract was signed between Vladimir and my father’s remaining allies.
The debt was to be paid whenever the Orlov family decided to collect it.
That contract is still valid. The debt was never settled. ”
Artyom’s brows pull together in genuine confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? My father never mentioned any blood debt with the Orlovs.”
Maxim’s dark eyes narrow slightly. “Because your father was a coward who preferred to bury inconvenient truths. The contract was signed in blood. It states clearly that the Morozov family owes the Orlovs one bride as payment. I’m here to collect.”
The words land like a bomb in the room. I feel the blood drain from my face. Milana’s hand tightens painfully around mine.
Artyom stares at him, gun still raised, but I can see the calculations running behind his eyes. “You’re lying.”
“Don’t insult me Arytom,” Maxim replies flatly. “The contract is ironclad under our laws. And I have chosen my bride.”
Everything is happening so fast. What blood debt is he talking about? Why would our father have gotten into a blood debt with him without letting Arytom know?
“The youngest one will do,” Maxim drawls, his cold gaze shifting from Artyom… straight to Milana.
The room goes dead silent for half a second.
“What?” Did I just hear correctly? No. This has to be some sick joke.
“No,” Artyom snarls, the single word sharp enough to cut glass. His gun stays locked on Maxim’s forehead, finger twitching like it’s taking every ounce of control he has not to pull the trigger right now. “Over my dead fucking body.”
Maxim shrugs. “That can be arranged.”
Shock slams into me so hard my knees almost buckle. Marriage? He wants to marry Milana? My younger sister, who we’ve all spent our lives trying to shield from exactly this kind of monster?
Milana makes a small, broken sound beside me. Her hand squeezes mine so tightly I feel the bones grind together. I can feel her terror vibrating through her fingers, raw, choking panic.
I expect Artyom to do something. To shoot Maxim. To throw this bastard out of his office in pieces. He’s the Pakhan. He’s supposed to be untouchable. He’s supposed to protect us.
“Get yourself off my couch and out of my office!”
But instead doing that, Maxim reaches into the inside pocket of his coat and pulls out a folded document, holding it up between two fingers.
“I came prepared. Here’s a contract signed after my father’s death. Between Vladimir Morozov and the remaining Orlov allies. Just as I already said, it states the blood debt between our families will be paid whenever the Orlovs choose to collect. The payment is one Morozov bride.”
He pauses holding Arytom’s gaze. “You dismiss this and you risk open war… your choice.”
Artyom snatches the document and unfolds it. I hold my breath as I watch him read it. I’m dying to know what it says. Do we really owe his family a blood debt?
I watch as Artyom’s face twists with fury, and I catch the exact moment something shifts behind his eyes. The gun in his hand doesn’t waver, but his jaw clenches so hard I hear his teeth grind.
He looks up and our eyes meet. I don’t see victory in his gaze. The realization crashes over me like ice water. My brother, who has ruled this city with an iron fist since our father died, is trapped. And Milana is the one who will pay the price.
Fear for my sister claws up my throat until I can barely breathe. Milana is only twenty-three. She doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t deserve to be handed over to a man like Maxim Orlov, a man who looks at her like she’s a chess piece instead of a person.
I can’t let this happen.
“Artyom,” I say, my voice cracking with desperation as I step forward, pulling Milana half behind me. “Do something. You can’t… you have to stop this. Please.”
My brother’s eyes flick to me for a split second. I see the storm of rage and helplessness there.
Maxim watches the whole exchange with that same bored, predatory calm, and he knows he’s already won.
My heart is pounding so violently I feel sick at the thought of Milana being forced to marry this man, of her being taken away, locked in his world.
I take another step forward, positioning myself directly between Maxim and my sister.
“You can’t marry Milana.”
“Calina, stay out of this,” Arytom drawls, his tone dripping with annoyance.
“I’ll take Milana’s place,” I say, the words leaving my mouth before I can even think them through. “I will marry you instead.”