55. Sophie
55
SOPHIE
I glance up from Maxim’s bedside as the door creaks open. Victor steps inside, his imposing figure somehow managing to make even the sterile hospital room feel smaller.
“Should I call security?” I ask, my tone laced with sarcasm. “Pretty sure visiting hours include retired Bratva bosses.”
Victor smirks, his sharp eyes flicking to Maxim, who’s resting with his head propped up on pillows. Maxim is awake, though pale, and he gives Victor a faint nod of acknowledgment.
“You look like hell,” Victor says, his tone dry but with a hint of warmth that surprises me. “Though I suppose that’s to be expected when you insist on doing everything the hard way.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Maxim replies, his voice steady despite the obvious strain.
Victor pulls up a chair, his movements slow and deliberate, like he’s trying not to disturb the fragile peace in the room. He glances at me briefly, then turns his full attention to Maxim.
“You’ve done it,” Victor says simply, leaning forward. “Federico’s dead. The city is yours.”
Maxim’s lips press into a thin line, his gaze dropping to the blanket covering his legs. “And the file?”
Victor’s expression softens, just a fraction. “I unlocked it.”
“You? But how?”
“Your wife is not the only one with cybersecurity skills,” he says with a glance at me.
Maxim groans. “This was a fucking test wasn’t it? The whole thing.”
“Isn’t everything in life?”
“You wanted to see if I could destroy Federico. You could have decrypted that file any time, couldn’t you? We would have been down two hundred million if Evan unlocked it first. I could have died. So could my wife. If I was strong enough, I’d strangle you right now.”
Victor smiles. “Leadership always comes with a cost, Maxim. But you’ve now proven you’re more than capable of paying it. You deserve to be king.”
“A hell of a gamble, old man.”
Victor pauses, his gaze flicking to me again before returning to Maxim. “I believed strength was the only thing that mattered. I ruled with an iron fist, and it worked—until it didn’t. I thought the strongest should survive, you or Federico. You’ve shown me something I never could understand.”
Maxim raises a brow, his voice edged with skepticism. “And what’s that?”
“Balance,” Victor says. “You didn’t just fight for power. You fought for people. For her.” He nods toward me, and I feel a blush creep up my neck.
“That’s what makes you stronger than your father ever was, than I ever was. Federico’s men are scattering. Most of them don’t have the stomach to fight anymore, not after they saw you kill their boss. I chose the right successor, that’s for sure.”
The room falls silent, Victor’s words hanging heavy in the air. Maxim doesn’t respond right away, his expression unreadable. But I see the faint shift in his eyes, the way his hand tightens slightly around the edge of the blanket.
Victor stands, smoothing his suit jacket. “Rest up. The city is yours, but keeping it will be the real test.”
He glances at me once more before heading for the door. “Take care of him,” he says, and though his tone is cool, there’s a sincerity in his words that catches me off guard.
“I will,” I reply softly, catching his arm. “And if you ever play another trick like that on my husband, I’ll kill you myself.”
He looks like he might laugh, then he sees the fury in my eyes. “Understood,” he says before leaving the room.
I turn back to Maxim, who’s staring at the ceiling with a distant look in his eyes. “King of the city, huh?” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “Should I start calling you Your Majesty?”
He smirks faintly, his gaze shifting to me. “Definitely.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Don’t let it go to your head. I can’t believe that son of a bitch could have unlocked the file anytime he liked. I worked my ass off on that thing and I never got to finish the job.”
“I’ll pay you anyway.” His jaw tightens, and he looks away, his fingers idly picking at the blanket. “Enough to start a new life. You can take your grandmother, go wherever you want.”
I stop in my tracks, my heart lurching at his words. “You want me to go?”
“I’m giving you your freedom,” he says, his gaze locking on mine. “Isn’t that what you wanted all along?”
I open my mouth to argue, but the lump in my throat stops me. He’s trying to do the right thing, I realize. To let me go so I can be free of this life. But the thought of it—the thought of walking away from him now—is unbearable.
“We’re having a child together. Don’t you care about that?”
His eyes darken, his mask slipping for just a moment. “I don’t want you to stay because you feel like you have to. I’ll fund the child’s life, of course. It will want for nothing.”
I let out a short laugh, the sound brittle. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He shakes his head, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Sophie.”
“I mean it,” I snap, stepping closer until I’m right beside the bed. “I mean it more than I’ve ever meant anything in my life.”
He looks up at me, and for the first time, I see the cracks in his armor. The vulnerability he tries so hard to hide. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Oh, don’t I?” I say, leaning down until we’re face to face. “I love you, Maxim. And if you think I’m going anywhere, you’re delusional.”
He stares at me, stunned into silence, and for a moment, I think I’ve said too much. But then his hand reaches out, brushing against my cheek. His touch is gentle, hesitant, as if he’s afraid I might disappear.
“You love me?” he says, as if he’s testing the words on his tongue.
“Yes,” I say, my voice firm. “And don’t think for a second that I’m doing this out of pity or guilt or whatever other nonsense you’ve convinced yourself of. I’m here because I want to be. Because I love you.”
He exhales sharply, his eyes searching mine for something. “Either you’re a fucking good actor,” he says finally, his voice breaking. “Or you mean that.”
“No acting,” I tease, a small smile tugging at my lips. “You’re stuck with me now, Maxim Abramov.”