Chapter 37 – MAKSIM
Thirty-Seven
MAKSIM
“Why isn’t she picking up the goddamn phone?”
I’m one second from hurling the thing into the pavement when another call cuts straight to voicemail.
That bastard Balterra crossed the finish line five minutes ago, and still no Valentina.
Losing the race is the least of my worries.
I need to know she isn’t bleeding out somewhere on the side of the road.
My jaw locks, breath burning tight in my chest.
“Remi, give me your fucking keys.”
“Maksim, wait.” She grabs my arm, eyes glued to her screen. “I’ve got her location. She’s moving. Almost here.”
I rush toward her with Remi on my heels, but when the door swings open, I almost don’t recognize the woman who steps out. Valentina is stone-faced, jaw tight, eyes locked somewhere beyond me as if I don’t exist.
Every instinct in me screams to intercept, to grab her, to make sure my girl is whole. But the scowl carved into her face and the sheer force in her stride tell me she doesn’t need saving.
She’s out for blood.
Remi moves in, but Valentina slips past her without breaking pace, cutting straight through the small crowd around Balterra. She shoves her way to the front.
“Dominic!”
He turns just in time to catch her right hook, then a quick left that snaps his head back before he can recover. The crowd erupts with gasps and hollers, widening the circle.
“You absolute bastard. You pit me, ran me off the road.”
He’s dead.
Remi and I push into the fray, but Valentina throws out an arm, holding us back without even looking, her attention locked on the bleeding man in front of her.
My fingers twitch, curling into fists at my sides, every nerve in me demanding I step in and end this.
But I force myself to stop. She’s claiming her vengeance, and I’ll be damned if I strip it from her.
I’ll wait.
“What the fuck, Cain?” he roars, spitting blood onto the pavement. “I didn’t do shit but smoke you.”
“You’re a goddamn liar.”
He dares a step closer, and I rush forward, ready to tear him apart.
“You’re just mad I own that sweet ride now.”
My vision tunnels red. It would take nothing to end him right here. But before I make that choice, I glance at Remi. Like Valentina, her eyes are on Balterra and his crew, a darkness burning there I’ve never seen before.
“You own nothing,” she says.
“Rules are rules, Cain.”
“Fuck you, you cheating sack of shit.”
He spits again and motions to two of his men. My hand goes straight for my knife, but the nearly simultaneous clicks of chambered rounds stop me cold. Valentina and Remi already have their guns drawn, steady, and aimed center mass.
The crowd recoils, voices dropping into whispers. Despite the danger of the moment, pride surges in me at the sight of her.
“Back up,” Remi snarls through her teeth.
Balterra takes a breath, and I know whatever fuckery he plans to spew from that hole in his face will seal his fate. Luckily for him, a younger man with black glasses and a limp pushes between them.
“We don’t do this here. Put your weapons down.”
Valentina hesitates, throat bobbing as she lowers her Glock. Remi doesn’t flinch.
“Sam, he ran me off the road. He didn’t win. He cheated.”
“Bullshit! I took you clean. You’re just pissed you lost.”
Sam holds up his hands. “Cops are on their way. We’ve got minutes to settle this and split.”
“Tell her to give me my goddamn car, and I’ll walk,” Balterra snaps.
“Come take it,” she challenges, raising her gun again.
A sharp grin tugs at my mouth.
My fucking girl.
“You and that psycho will be banned,” he says, pointing to Remi. “I promise you that.”
Fate sealed.
Sam turns to Valentina, eyes pleading, full of empathy but firm. “I’m sorry, Val. Without solid proof, Dom’s the winner. Those are the rules. We all signed the same contracts.”
Valentina shakes her head slightly, tucks her gun into her jacket, and slides a hand over Remi’s arm.
“We’re not done here,” she says, tossing her key fob to the ground and tugging a reluctant Remi away.
I follow, glancing back at the man whose blood will be on my hands tonight. He tips his face, trying to look brave, but I see the fear in his eyes.
“Kolibri, wait,” I call, and she stops, but doesn’t turn. When I catch up and pull her close, the sight of her tears lights a fire in my chest.
“I didn’t lose,” she whispers against me.
“I know.” I signal to Remi for her car. She nods and takes off across the lot.
The roar of Poison Ivy’s engine cuts through the night. Balterra is making sure everyone knows he’s taking her car. I’ll deal with him soon enough. My concern is the woman in my arms, stiffening at the sound of her car’s throttle.
“Look at me.” I nudge her chin until her watery brown eyes meet mine. “We’ll get it back. I promise.”
She shakes her head, pushing out of my arms. “That’s not how this works. He’ll never give it up. He’d torch it first. Rules are fucking rules.” She wipes the tears from her cheeks, sharp and angry.
“I don’t follow anyone’s rules. The only reason his head isn’t split open on that pavement is because I knew you needed to confront him yourself. I gave you that. That’s it.”
Her eyes narrow. “Maksim…what are you going to do?”
Remi’s black Demon pulls up beside us. “Go with her.”
“What about you? You don’t even have a ride back.”
I kiss her hard, gripping her chin. My words come low over her lips. “Get in the car, Valentina.”
She swallows, argument lodged in her throat, then leans against me, forehead on my chest, sighing before sliding into the car.
I watch them leave, then turn to an old friend still lingering, trying to charm a woman who couldn’t be less interested.
A man who can’t take a hint. Exactly who I expected.
“Casper, was it?” I ask, hand on his shoulder.
His eyes widen. “Yeah…what’s up? Valentina’s guy, right?”
As if he forgot.
“Yeah. That’s me. And I need a favor.”
Smoke billows from the cracked driver’s side window of Valentina’s car. That bastard Balterra’s been idling for thirty goddamn minutes. Two phone calls so far, bragging about his new ride, cackling, and heating my blood with every crude joke about beating the queen of Furia.
My patience is razor-thin. Especially when all I want is to be buried inside my girl right now.
“You should’ve seen her, pissed as all hell.” He sucks his teeth. “That bitch got me good, too. Who knew she had a sweet swing? I’d let her hit me again…and then bend that ass over the hood of her own car. Teach her some respect.”
My plan was simple, keep this confined to his apartment, take him out clean, minimize the mess. But his mouth forces my hand.
I wrap a towel from Casper’s glove compartment around my knuckle and step out. My eyes never leave his side mirror, watching his stupid grin as I close in.
“I’d love to show that pretty mouth where—”
He spots me in the reflection just as I slide up the door. His eyes go wide, but it’s too late. I drive my fist through the glass, shattering it, then haul him out by the collar. His body scrapes across jagged shards before he crashes to the pavement.
“Shit—I’m bleeding—what the fuck!”
“Not enough,” I mutter, slamming my fist into his nose. His cartilage cracks.
He wails, blood pouring down his chin. “I’ve got ten grand in the glove compartment. More inside…please.” His spit and blood hit my shoe.
“I’m here for the car.” My grip tightens on his shirt.
“Valentina…she sent you? That little—”
I drag him across the concrete and let his face bounce off the curb. “You just don’t know when to shut up, do you?”
“Come on, man. I won fair and fucking square.” He coughs up blood. “You can’t do this. They’ll come for her—for that fucking car. It’s not worth it.”
A laugh tears out of me. “Every pathetic plea out of your mouth makes this more worth it.”
I fist the back of his hair and press his bloodied face against the curb. He gurgles, trying to spit another insult. But it’s a little hard to talk with a mouthful of concrete.
“You tried to run my girl off the road. You stole her car. You humiliated her. You made her cry. And somehow you think I’ll just let it go?” I dip low, rasping near his ear. “Maybe it’s time someone taught you how to use your mouth properly.”
I straighten and stomp the back of his skull. The crunch is wet, his head caving against the pavement. For a moment, I'm back in Russia, the echo of old sins ringing in my ears. But it's not that memory that has my blood thrumming.
It’s her.
Breaking him isn’t simply vengeance. It’s devotion and purpose.
Valentina doesn’t just own my heart—she owns the violence that beats inside it.