Chapter 19 – MAKSIM
Nineteen
MAKSIM
“I’ve got dibs on Aunt Leni.”
AJ’s voice carries from the dining room just as Valentina leans against the wall, where our parents are one sharp remark away from throwing knives—or putting holes in the drywall. For most families, that would be an exaggeration. But here, it’s a real possibility.
Still, at the end of the day, love and loyalty have always held. Derek will just have to get the fuck over himself.
“I’m not worried about him,” I say, stepping closer. “He’s always been protective of you. I get it. And indirectly or not, I did almost—”
She lifts her hand before I can finish. “If I hear about that damn accident one more time, I’ll lose it.
It happened weeks ago. I’m not dead.” Her tone is light, teasing even, but there’s tension in her eyes that tells me she means it.
Valentina’s never been comfortable with vulnerability. She’s been a force her whole life.
“Message received,” I say.
“Besides, he knows it wasn’t your fault. He’s just…”
“Being a dad,” I finish for her.
She nods and steps closer, her shoulder brushing mine. “Exactly. So don’t let him ruin your night.”
“My night?” I ask, curious where she’s going with this. I shift forward, close enough that she has to tilt her chin to look at me.
“Yeah,” she says softly. “Consider this a welcome-home party.”
“This was your idea?”
“I might’ve made the suggestion. Better late than never.
” Her head tilts, a slow smile curling at her mouth.
“After everything that happened, I feel like your homecoming got overshadowed. And I figured it’d be a good icebreaker.
A chance to get everyone under one roof again—just…
better circumstances than my near-death experience. ”
I arch a brow. “Thought you said we weren’t bringing that up anymore?”
Valentina bites her lip, eyes gleaming. “Oops. How naughty of me.”
I drag in a breath that feels like it might tear me open. “Valentina.”
“Hmm?” she murmurs, tugging at the front of my shirt, closing the last of the space between us.
Ruin me.
The words echo, looping in my head. Her voice, hushed and desperate, that night in her kitchen.
Wine still on her lips. Fingers twisted in my shirt.
The way she looked at me, begging for destruction like it was salvation.
It’s been clawing at me ever since, every second a fight to forget what she asked for, and that I wanted to give it to her.
Still do.
“What are we doing?” I ask, though I already know.
Fire. That’s what this is. A fucking inferno. And we’re not just playing in it, we’re already burning.
“Val, dinner’s…ready.” AJ’s voice is like a bucket of ice water. Neither of us moves.
Her eyes dart between her sister and me, clocking the closeness, the grip of Valentina’s hand on my shirt. She reads it instantly, the way only a younger sibling can when they’ve stumbled onto something they shouldn’t.
Valentina doesn’t pull away. Instead, her grip on me tightens, and she flashes her little sister a cool, unbothered smile.
“We’ll be right there.”
AJ presses her lips together, mischief sparking in her eyes before she pins me with a look that could gut a man. A Cain, through and through.
“Now it all makes sense. Oh, fuck, Val. And here I thought dinner was gonna be boring. Dad’s gonna shit himself.”
“Alessandra!” Valentina snaps, but the laughter curling beneath her voice gives her away.
She turns as if to follow her sister, then pivots back on her crutches. “Don’t worry. She won’t tell.”
“And what exactly is there to tell?”
My arms fold across my chest, locking me in place. I don’t trust myself to move yet because space is the only thing keeping me sane right now.
My gaze drops to her ass, like it always does.
“Coming?” she teases, tossing a wicked glance over her shoulder, “or are you just going to stand there and stare?”
My answer is a slow nod and a quiet, “Fuck.”
“So, Maksim, how does it feel to be back for such a long stretch?” Amalia clasps her hands together, smiling warmly across the table. “This is almost like the last time we were all together in Rio. Do you remember?”
“Of course,” I answer, though the words taste strange on my tongue. Every eye shifts to me, and for once, the attention feels like a weight. Normally, I thrive on it. Commanding a room is second nature. But tonight it feels different.
Because sitting across from me is Valentina.
And I can still feel the warmth of her body pressed too close before AJ crashed in.
My conscience—or what little I thought was left of it—gnaws at me.
Like they all somehow know. Like AJ’s smirk when she left us in the hall branded my face with guilt for everyone to see.
I lift my glass to my mouth, letting the burn of bourbon buy me a second of reprieve, but it doesn’t help. Not when I glance up and catch Derek Cain watching me from the other end of the table, eyes damn near searing a hole through my temple.
“We’re all glad you’re back,” Eva chimes in, her voice carrying that calm like it always does. Her hand is out of sight, but I catch the way she stretches it toward Derek beneath the table, no doubt a silent warning for him to stay in line.
“Leni tells me you’ve rented an office downtown. Does that mean you’re staying for good?”
“I bet he is…” AJ mutters, just loud enough.
Her resemblance to Valentina is impossible to miss. Same features, same wit, but her father’s piercing blue eyes give her away. Her hair is darker, too. She’s the younger version of her sister, with all the fire and none of the filter.
Valentina shoots her a look, then clears her throat.
“I don’t have a date set to return to Russia,” I answer evenly. “So for the time being, yes. I’ll be in Philly a while.”
Athena places a gentle hand on my forearm. “I’m glad to hear that, Maksim. I’ve missed our talks.”
I give her a small nod and a warmer smile than I’ve managed all evening at this table.
Athena—Amara, when I first met her, has always been different.
A woman who clawed her way back from hell, who once looked me in the eye and told me the ugliest parts of her story.
That honesty bonded us. She made me feel seen, like what I lived was real, valid, not just the nightmare of a child’s imagination or something I needed to get over.
The difference is, she’s learned to live with her scars, to temper the rage and let it rest without allowing it to consume her.
Me? I’ve never wanted that. And I never will. The world owes me too much.
“We’re all glad you’re back, Maxy. Glad you’re sticking around for a bit. Hopefully…longer.”
Valentina’s voice burns through the chatter, softer than the rest, but it hooks me all the same.
My eyes go to hers before I can think better of it.
She’s smiling, calm, collected, like nothing at this table can touch her.
But I catch the way her fingernail traces the rim of her wineglass, taunting, the deep red polish flashing under the chandelier.
Heat presses in my chest. She knows I’ll notice. And she knows where my mind will go if I let it.
I force my expression flat, give her nothing in return.
Not here. Not with the whole family watching.
But her smile lingers, and her eyes hold.
Like this is a game only the two of us are playing, like that night at my place.
She’s daring me to react, to break first while everyone else is too blind to see the pieces moving.
I shift in my chair, jaw tight. AJ’s little smirk across the table tells me she’s already clocked more than she should. Derek’s fork scrapes his plate like he’s on to us too.
And still Valentina doesn’t look away.
Truth or Dare.
This isn’t me. This isn’t who I am. The way she’s got me rattled, and coming apart at the seams. Because Valentina is the one I can’t have.
Or can I?
Would it really be so wrong if I gave in? Then what? Date her, fuck her? Pretend I can offer more than I’ve got in me?
Valentina deserves better. And I won’t delude myself like Derek did when he chased after his wife, believing in some fairytale ending. In marriage, kids, a white picket fence, and a goddamn happily ever after. That’s not my story. That’s a once-in-a-million kind of luck.
My eyes drift around the table, taking in the couples, the quiet bonds, the legacies they’re building here. And I know that kind of life, that love forged through blood until it means something worth keeping…that belongs to them.
Not me.
As much as our stories overlap, mine isn’t meant for peace, family dinners, or children’s laughter echoing through halls. My path is carved in violence. And I accept that.
But then there’s her.
No matter how many times I tell myself to stay away, I can’t stop wanting.