Chapter 18 – MAKSIM
Eighteen
MAKSIM
“You look like someone with a lot on their mind.”
I fight the urge to startle at Silas’s sudden appearance, keeping my eyes fixed on the framed photograph in my hand until he slides a drink across the desk.
With my back to the door and my thoughts a million miles away, I hadn’t heard him come in.
I shouldn’t be surprised—this is his office, after all—but I’ve never liked being caught off guard, even by someone I trust as much as Silas.
Our relationship isn’t like the one I have with my mother. Hell, I’ve never called him anything other than his name. Not because he hasn’t earned the title, but because the man I once called father, and everything that followed, left scars too deep for that.
“It’s been an eventful few weeks back in the States,” I admit.
He nods, eyes drifting toward the photo of Valentina at her college graduation.
“She’s okay. That’s what’s important.”
If he only knew how far past okay we’ve gotten.
What would he think of us—of me? Valentina isn’t just his niece. She’s his family. His blood.
Would he resent me for crossing a line that can’t be uncrossed? It took everything, every ounce of restraint, respect, and control, not to do exactly what she asked of me.
She told me to ruin her, to take her.
And I would.
God, I would.
“I heard it’s going to be a full house tonight,” I say, changing the subject. It’s safer this way.
“You notice I’ve kept my distance from your mother and hid all her favorite sharp things, just in case?”
I bark a laugh. Even more than a decade removed from his last contract, Silas still keeps a strict regimen. His skills are sharp, his body fit, and his reflexes lethal. The man hasn’t dulled an inch since his days with Ares. The only person alive who can shake him is his wife.
And I don’t blame him.
I’m afraid of her, too.
“Smart man.”
Everyone knows how they met. Their cat-and-mouse fairytale used to be one of my favorite bedtime stories.
Shit like that reminds you how fragile fate really is.
One well-placed bullet. A knife an inch to the right.
A decision made two minutes too late. My father killing Eva.
Any one of those things could’ve set off a butterfly effect big enough to rewrite all our lives.
“What about you, son? Anyone special in your life?”
Another drink. The liquid slides down my throat with more effort than I anticipate.
“No. Nothing but more work waits for me back in Moscow.”
There’s a moment of hesitation, a second in which his smile falters, then slips back into place so quickly I question whether it actually happened. He nods, his eyes drifting back to his drink.
“Work's a loyal companion, I suppose,” he says, voice resigned. “It never argues and never leaves.”
I force a tight smile. “And never asks you to stay.”
Silas’s laugh is brief. He sets his glass down with a quiet clink and leans against the desk.
“You know, there was a time I believed that kind of loyalty was everything. That it made you untouchable. But I was wrong. It wears you down, Maksim. Makes you forget that you’re flesh and bone.
It wasn’t until Leni that I realized there was more to life than that. ”
I look down at my drink. It’s half-empty.
There is more.
A flash of dark hair. Brown eyes. Dimples.
Valentina.
“I haven’t forgotten,” I say. “Not yet.”
He turns his head slightly, just enough for our eyes to meet. But there’s no lecture waiting behind his stare, only something heavier. Sadder.
“Just don’t wait too long. Eventually, even the best men run out of time.”
Silas rests a hand on my shoulder, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smile. “I’m glad to have you back. I hope you decide to stay this time.”
I meet his gaze, smirk tugging at my lips. “Don’t get soft on me, old man.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But I mean it, Maksim. No work tonight. Just us.”
No sooner do the words leave his mouth than the security system chimes, alerting to movement at the gate. He unlocks his phone, enters a code, and takes the last swig of bourbon.
At the same time, my own cell buzzes in my pocket.
My breath stalls when Valentina’s name flashes on the screen.
KOLIbrI: Hey, Maksim. We’re pulling up. Mind helping Remi bring some stuff inside? I would help, but you know, some guy ran me over.
The smile on my face is instant.
ME: Sounds like this guy deserves to have his ass kicked.
KOLIbrI: That’s the plan.
ME: I’ll be right out.
I pocket the phone and move before the words finish settling, trying, but failing to smother the grin on my face.
When I glance up, Silas is watching. His brows lifted and mouth tilted just enough to count as a smirk.
“You ready?” he asks. But it’s not the words that matter; it's the look he's giving me. Perplexed, curious, and maybe even a little suspicious.
He doesn’t press, just studies me for a moment longer than necessary before falling in step behind. At the corridor, we split. He veers left with a silent nod, and I head toward the exit.
By the time I reach the front entrance, Remi’s already there, a tray tucked under one arm as she leans into the trunk. Hermes and Apollo flank her.
I know I should help. But then the passenger door opens, and the faint tap of a metal crutch on concrete steals my focus.
I’m at Valentina’s side before I can think, hand extended. She glances up through her lashes and smiles. I tug her gently to her feet, and draw her into a hug without hesitation.
For a moment, neither of us moves, too aware of how easy it feels. Of how dangerous that ease has become.
“How about we save the ass-kicking for after dinner?” I say, breaking the tension still lingering from the last time we were together.
“You don’t set the terms here, Ruso.” Her hand presses against my chest.
I let her go, though every part of me wants to keep holding on.
Dangerous waters. I know it. But I can’t find it in me to care.
We turn, and there’s Remi. Arms full, tray slipping, bag sliding off her shoulder.
"Umm...how about a little help here?"
Valentina laughs under her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry!”
She starts toward Remi, but I catch her wrist.
“She was talking to me. You go inside.”
She hesitates, just long enough for a shiver to pass through her. We both feel it. Valentina nods once and slips past me, her shoulder grazing my arm as she goes.
I’d been so caught up, I didn’t notice Derek’s car pull up behind Remi’s.
The driver’s side door swings open, and he steps out slowly, expression carved from stone, eyes locked on me. The edges of my mouth curl into a grin as I hold his stare, unwilling to be the first to look away.
“Uncle Derek. You mind grabbing these?”
The moment his eyes shift toward Remi, his shoulders loosen, and he smiles. “Of course.”
“I can help!” a boy shouts, darting out of the back seat before Derek even has a chance to shut his door.
I left for Russia before Matteo was born, which means he can’t be older than fourteen. Even if I’d never laid eyes on him before today, I’d still know who he belongs to. The Leone kid is his father’s mirror image, with his mother’s mismatched eyes. One blue and one brown.
“I’ll take that for you, Remi,” Matteo says, focused on her like she’s the only one in the driveway. When his gaze wavers and his cheeks flush, it tells me everything I need to know. The boy has a crush.
“Don’t drop anything,” she replies, barely sparing him a glance.
More kids spill out of the SUV. Derek’s twins, Madden and AJ, followed by Remi’s younger brother, Giovanni, and finally Eva.
Evangelina lets out a playful huff as she takes in the scene, greeting us with the grace of someone long used to managing chaos. A hug for Remi, a warm smile for me.
Derek takes his wife’s hand, then leans in to press a kiss to Remi’s temple, murmuring something I can’t quite catch.
Remi’s eyes narrow as she listens, flicking briefly toward me before she rolls them and shakes her head, as if brushing off whatever he said. It’s not like Derek to whisper instead of bite.
I’m almost insulted by his lack of confrontation.
“Derek,” I deadpan, extending my hand.
His eyes drop, then rise to meet mine. Not a twitch, not a blink. And if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he wasn’t even breathing.
“Is there a problem?”
My mom’s voice breaks the silence, heavy with warning. But after decades of their faux rivalry, he doesn’t even look her way. And our little stare-down holds.
“Derek? Come on,” Eva urges, tugging on his arm. Still nothing.
Interesting.
Mom steps off the porch and closes the distance. She and Derek have had their share of disagreements, but it’s never gone beyond charged banter and the occasional threat. The days of her stepping in for me are long gone, so I shift, placing myself between them.
I flash him an amused grin and shrug, calling his bluff. He may never forgive me for being in the car that nearly killed his daughter, for the Belov blood that beats through my veins, but I wonder what he’d think of me if he knew how hard my cock was for her just minutes ago.
“Papi…”
Valentina’s voice breaks the stand-off, soft but commanding enough to pull both our heads her way.