Chapter 4 – MAKSIM
Four
MAKSIM
Ifold the last of my laundry and slam the drawer shut.
Another sleepless night, another mindless task to keep my hands moving while my head refuses to quiet down.
But it doesn’t matter how hard I try to stay busy, or how many laps I make across this condo—hell, not even the music shaking the walls drowns her out.
My thoughts always crawl back to Valentina.
Guilt sits heavy on my chest. What are the odds that out of every goddamn person in this city, my driver is the one who plows into the one person who actually means something to me?
And if she does mean that much, then why the fuck haven’t I called her back? Why haven’t I gone to see her in the five days she’s been home?
Things are different now. Even with my past, when we were kids, the world looked softer once Mom took me in. People looked different through that lens. Valentina was someone else to me back then. Someone simpler, and someone I could box neatly into family.
But she isn’t that girl anymore. And she sure as hell isn’t simple.
She’s…something else.
Hard knocks and a sharp chime cut through the pounding bass. I kill the music and head for the door, not bothering to check who’s damn near breaking it down. I already know.
I yank it open and almost collide with my mother. She doesn’t flinch. Her eyes lock on mine. Cold and unforgiving.
“Is there something wrong with your phone?”
“No.”
“That’s funny,” she says, folding her arms as she leans against the doorframe. “Because I’ve called and texted. Not a single reply.” She takes a step closer. “So I ask you again, Maksim Belov—Did your phone die, or are you purposely avoiding me?”
Even years after her last blood oath, she still carries that edge, that razor wit, and that glint of darkness in her eyes that never really left. A reminder of who she used to be.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind. Work never stops, even here.”
Mom exhales hard and brushes past me, moving with the same exasperated confidence that once terrified men twice my size.
“Valentina is fine,” she says, seeing straight through my bullshit.
“You’d know that if you answered her calls or went to see her.
She’s been home five days, Maksim. And you weren’t the one driving, so spare me the guilt act. ”
She props a hand on the counter. “Maks, I get needing space. But punishing yourself over something that wasn’t your fault? That’s pointless. Don’t be foolish. Not today. Because I’m not in the mood to be annoyed.”
I pull her into my arms and press a kiss to the top of her head, remembering when she used to tower over me, stronger, unshakable.
The first person in so long who made me feel safe.
And the first who ever looked at me and saw something worth a damn.
She saved me that night, in every way that mattered.
But some scars are carved too deep to ever fade, no matter how much love or loyalty is poured over them.
Another rush of guilt burns hot at the back of my neck.
I left Russia for her, to be closer, to be here in case she needed me. And yet, with everything that’s happened, we’ve barely spent any real time together.
That’s on me.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole. It’s just…almost killing Vali wasn’t on my list of plans when I stepped off the plane that morning. I can’t shake the image of her lying there, nearly lifeless.”
She pulls me in tighter before easing back, her gaze softening when it meets mine. “We all love her, Maksim. The last few days have been…a lot. But Vali is fine—on the mend.” Her tone lightens on the nickname, and I catch the teasing in her eyes.
With a soft clap to my chest, she tilts her head and smiles. “How about lunch? There’s a little café a few blocks from here. Your treat.”
I huff a quiet laugh, catching her face in my hands before pressing another kiss to her forehead. “For you? Always.”
The restaurant hums with too many voices, too much noise. We order quickly and escape to the patio, grateful for the privacy.
Mom is busy firing off a message on her phone, and I take the chance to really look at her. The faint scar on her neck catches the light, a reminder of how close we came to losing her. Six months ago, she scared the hell out of all of us. Cancer.
I hadn’t cried real tears in years—until that phone call.
She and Silas were in London at the time.
I was on the next flight out and refused to leave her side through the surgery and recovery.
She made us swear not to tell the rest of the family until she had answers, and when she threatened to use her katana to keep us quiet…
well, neither of us doubted she meant it.
But karma hadn’t come for her yet. They cut it all out, and she’s been clear ever since.
“What do you say we swing by Valentina’s place?”
My first instinct is to shut it down, my smile slipping, but instead I just shrug and nod. What the fuck am I running from, anyway?
“How long do you plan to stay? I promised one of my contacts I’d meet him this afternoon.”
Mom rolls her eyes and takes a slow sip of water like she’s already tired of my shit. I can’t help but laugh.
“Easy. Cancel,” she says, setting her glass down with a snap of finality.
“The world doesn’t stop because I’m here…or because of that accident.”
Being continents away doesn’t mean business pauses.
Shipments still have to move, deals have to close, and my people still expect to get paid.
Loyalty doesn’t grow from fear alone. It’s earned through respect.
When I took over what was left of my father’s empire at eighteen, I’ll admit, I was hesitant, afraid I’d never fill the shoes of the men who came before me. Unsure if I even wanted or deserved to.
But time and experience have a way of burning hesitation out of you. I embraced the role and dragged the Belov empire out of the ashes, shaping it into something stronger and untouchable.
Instead of her usual dark humor, she sighs, offering me a sad sort of smile.
“I know you’ve been gone a long time, and maybe the people here don’t mean as much to you as you do to them.
But what we have is rare, Maksim. Our family is everything.
You’ve seen what’s out there—it’s why I pushed you to leave, to become the man you were always meant to be, to prepare for what may come.
But not at the expense of what truly matters. ”
“I’m not staying.”
Her brows twitch, and she leans back in her chair, studying me in silence.
Helena is my mother by fate, not blood. A truth I thank every goddamn day for.
Not only because she saved me and gave me everything I never thought I’d have, but because being loved by her, being on her side, means I’ll never have to face her wrath.
Despite the men I’ve buried and maimed, and maybe because she has my unconditional love and respect, there’s no one I fear more than the woman sitting across from me.
“I’m not telling you to stay. I’m asking you to be here—one hundred percent,” she says. “I don’t agree with Derek, and I wanted to skin him alive for that shit at the hospital, but he’s right about one thing: we take care of our own. We handle what needs handling.”
I snort. “Should I track down Gustavo and throw him off the tallest building?”
She waves me off. “Don’t be ridiculous. Derek already paid him a visit days ago.”
I laugh into my glass, not surprised in the least. Maybe the asshole had been careless, but did he really deserve to—
Images of Valentina, the ones I’ve been force-feeding to the back of my skull, shove forward.
Yeah. He did.
He deserved every bit of what Derek gave him. One reckless move could have ruined everything. I grind my teeth and meet Mom’s eyes. There’s a new angle there now, curiosity, not just judgment.
“Good.”
She nods, a knowing smile forming. “Valentina is beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Always,” I say, knocking back another sip.
“She’s expecting us in fifteen.”
I huff a laugh, shaking my head at her audacity. Of course she didn’t ask first.
But the sound dies in my throat when a voice, deep, accented, and all too familiar, cuts in.
“So the rumors are true. Little Maksim Belov lives after all.”
He’s older now, worn by time and bad choices. Dusty skin, a milky right eye, but the same crooked grin. Konstantin. Pyotr’s old errand boy.
He never raised a hand to me back then, but he didn’t stop the ones who did either. A yes-man, a coward dressed as a loyalist.
I stand slowly, scanning the patio, gauging distance and exits. He extends a hand, waiting. My eyes drop to it, then back to his face. I don’t move.
“Maksim, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
Mom's invitation is anything but polite. I already know where she’s steering the moment she smiles that way. I give a small, almost imperceptible shake of my head and motion toward the mounted camera over the patio.
“Oh, don’t be rude,” she says, ignoring me.
The man’s seedy grin fattens when he meets her eyes. “Nice. You like them older, huh? Interesting.” He drags out a chair and makes himself comfortable.
Some people deserve to have their throats slit. Konstantin is one of those people.
I keep my blade hidden for the moment. Because I know what he doesn’t. My mother doesn’t let insults slide. And a part of me is eager to watch Helena come out and play.