9. Maxim
9
MAXIM
T he hallway stretches out before me, the silence broken only by the sharp rhythm of my cane tapping against the marble floor as I march away from the games room.
My teeth grind together as I walk, each step fueled by rage. Fate is laughing at me. Every thought in my head is a snarl, and it all revolves around her. The gods kept me alive just to taunt me.
Veronica Bennett.
The moment I saw her—those wide eyes, that stubborn chin—I knew. The woman I haven’t been able to forget. The woman I pulled out of the freezing river, whose face has haunted every goddamn dream since. She’s here, of all places.
Dmitri wants me to marry her? No. Absolutely not. My obsession with her would swallow her whole and spit her out in tiny blood soaked pieces.
The anger boils hotter, and I grip the cane tighter, my knuckles aching. My pace quickens, the urge to put as much distance as possible between myself and that room clawing at me. She doesn’t belong here. With me.
“Maxim!” Dmitri’s voice snaps through the air behind me, sharp and commanding, but I don’t stop.
His footsteps pound closer until a hand clamps down on my arm, yanking me to a halt. I whirl around, shoving his hand off with a glare that could burn steel.
“What the hell was that?” he demands, his voice furious. His eyes narrow, his usually calm demeanor cracking.
“I’m not doing this,” I growl. “Find someone else. Anyone else.”
“Why?” He steps closer, his jaw tightening. “She’s perfect. She’s smart, she’s brave, and she needs our protection. You, of all people, should understand that means she’ll be loyal. Plus, she’s Elena’s best friend. She’ll never snitch to the cops.”
“I said no.” My voice is too loud. I’m losing control. I never lose control.
Dmitri doesn’t back down. “Give me the real reason, Maxim. What’s wrong with her”
My patience snaps, and I shove him back a step, my chest heaving. “Because I’ll destroy her. Is that reason enough for you? Your wife’s best friend will be broken by me. You want that?”
He stares at me, stunned for a moment, before recovering. His expression hardens, but there’s curiosity in his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I drag a hand through my hair, pacing a few steps before turning back to him. The confession comes out like a hiss, each word tasting bitter. “I pulled her out of the river a month ago. The night I got shot.”
His eyes widen slightly, but he stays silent, letting me continue.
“I was waiting for Arseni when I saw her thrashing around in the water. I dragged her out and left her with the ambulance crew. Got back to dealing with him and then got myself shot. Because I was thinking of her.”
I sigh. “I’ve been trying to forget her ever since,” I admit, my voice dropping. “But I can’t. She’s in my head, Dmitri. Every night, I see her face. Feel her skin cold under my hands. I can’t marry her. I’d never be able to focus on anything else.”
“Are you telling me you fell in love with her after spending ten minutes together in a river?”
“It’s nothing to do with love.” I shake my head, clenching my fists. “It’s something much darker. Something I don’t know how to control. It’s gnawing at me. I’ve never felt anything like this.”
“Maxim. I know how you feel. When I met Elena, I felt the same?—”
“No.” I cut him off, my tone biting. “I can’t do it.”
Dmitri steps closer, his expression shifting from anger to something sharper. “You think you can walk away? You do this or you don’t inherit. Her attacker remains at large. Vito Lombardi roams free. All because you’re too pussy to marry her for two fucking months? That what you want, you fucking coward?”
I lurch forward, my voice a low growl. “Careful, cousin.”
He doesn’t flinch, stepping right into my space. “No. You be careful. Because if you don’t step up, you’re going to drag all of us down with you.”
I glare at him, my jaw tightening as his words hit their mark. Dmitri’s voice softens, but his intensity doesn’t waver.
“You’re not the one in trouble. She is. And she doesn’t have the luxury of waiting for you to figure your shit out. You’re the only one who can keep her safe. And without this arrangement, we’re all vulnerable. I don’t care how you do it, but wrap your head around this. You must marry her or we’re all fucked.”
I let out a bitter laugh, dragging a hand down my face. “You don’t get it. I’ll destroy her, Dmitri.”
His voice softens, but his words hit harder. “Sixty days, Maxim. That’s all I’m asking. Two months to protect her, to win the city for the Bratva. Avenge her. Kill Lombardi like we always swore we would.” He taps the scar that runs down my face. “Remember?”
The memory hits me. Me and Dmitri aged fifteen, being beaten black and blue by Lombardi himself. Swearing to each other afterward that we’d kill him one day.
My chest heaves, my fists clenching and unclenching at my sides. “Fine,” I bite out. “I’ll do it. But don’t expect me to like it.”
Dmitri’s lips curl into a faint, knowing smile. “I never expect you to like anything, cousin. Just do your duty for the family, like the rest of us. Now come and meet her properly. Try not to scare the shit out of her.”