18. Maksim
Maksim
I’m in Nikolai’s office going over some of the contracts for his new build when my phone rings. Damien’s name flashes on the screen.
“Yeah.” I continue to scan the paperwork in front of me.
“We have a problem.” It’s the tone he uses when shit has gone very wrong.
The paperwork is forgotten. “What kind of problem?”
“They hit the shopping trip. Ambush in the parking garage.”
The shopping trip I approved yesterday before I left.
“Is she hurt?” My voice sounds funny to my ears.
“Dislocated shoulder. Road rash. Concussion. She jumped from a moving vehicle.”
“She what?”
“They grabbed her. She threw herself out of the car rather than let them take her.” I hear respect in his voice. For Damien, that’s a big deal. “Mike got her back. But Maksim, we lost Georgiy. Pavel’s in surgery. Mike took a round, but it’s a through-and-through.”
Fear and anger war within. My breathing comes too fast. My skin feels too tight.
“I’m on my way.”
I hang up. Nikolai looks up from his paperwork.
“What happened?”
“They went after Lila.” I’m moving toward the door. “I need your plane.”
“It’s yours.” He stands. “Want me to come?”
“No. Stay here. Handle your shit.” I pause at the door. “But I might need backup soon.”
“You’ll have it.”
The flight back to Miami is the longest four hours of my life. I can’t sit still. Can’t focus. Can’t stop seeing it play out in my head.
She could be dead right now. Given what Damien told me, she should be dead. She could have cracked her skull open on the pavement. Been crushed by traffic. A thousand ways it could have gone wrong and ended with me identifying her body.
The rage I feel is unlike anything I’ve felt. It’s cold and hot at the same time.
They touched my wife.
I’m going to burn their operation to the ground. Not just because it’s Lila. They fucked with what’s mine. That will not go unpunished.
The plane can’t land fast enough. When it does, Sampson and I run to the waiting SUV. I’m out before the vehicle fully stops in the driveway. I burst through the front door, my heart pounding.
“Where is she?”
One of the guards points upstairs. “Her bedroom.”
I take the stairs three at a time. Cinder stands beside the bed where Lila sits with her left arm in a sling and her face a mess of scrapes and bruises. There’s a butterfly bandage above her eye. Road rash covers her right arm and shoulder.
She’s alive. She’s safe.
The relief hits me so hard that I have to grab the doorframe. I feel like someone has knocked the wind out of me.
Cinder turns, irritation evident in her body language. “She’s okay. Doctor was here and put her shoulder back in place. Nothing broken. She’ll be sore for a while, but no real damage.”
“Easy for you to fucking say,” Lila snaps. “Let me throw you out of a moving vehicle.”
Cinder rolls her eyes. “Did I mention she’s being a bitch?”
“Fuck you.”
“Can you give us a minute?” I ask.
Cinder glances at Lila. “Good luck. Maybe you can make her take the pain meds. She’s refusing. Doesn’t trust us.”
“Just you,” Lila quips.
I have no idea what their beef is, and I don’t care.
“I really hope this is worth it,” Cinder says. “One by one.”
I ignore her. She walks out and slams the door. Lila winces. “Bitch.”
“So-rry,” Cinder calls out in a sing-song voice that says that was intentional.
I’ll deal with her later.
I cross the room and stop a few feet from the bed, studying her injuries. The scrapes. The bruises.
“I’m fine.” Her voice is defiant, but I hear the tremor underneath.
“You jumped out of a moving car.”
“I wasn’t going to let them take me.” She lifts her chin. “I’d rather die on my terms than whatever they had planned.”
I hate that she had to make that choice. But damn, I’m so proud that she did. Not many people would be brave enough to do that.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” I say.
“Mike saved my life.” Her eyes meet mine. “George is dead because of me.”
“George?”
“The guard.”
Georgiy.
I sit very carefully on the edge of her bed. I don’t want to jostle her. “He’s dead because the Albanians are animals who don’t respect boundaries. This is not your fault.”
“Isn’t it?” Her voice cracks. “He died protecting me. Pavel’s in surgery. Mike got shot. All because you wanted me to go shopping. I could have ordered online.”
“You are not responsible for their actions. You wanted clothes. That’s normal. You shouldn’t be afraid to leave the house. I told you, you are not a prisoner.”
She looks up at me, and I see the fear she’s trying to hide. She’s always fighting. “They aren’t going to stop. They’re going to keep coming until they get what they want.”
I want to tell her she’s wrong, that I promise to protect her.
But she’s not wrong.
“Security’s being doubled,” I say. “No more trips outside the compound without a full detail. Today, it was lax. I was wrong to assume my name would be enough.”
“I can’t leave. I can’t go anywhere without armed guards. I can’t live a normal life. They’ve given me two options: prison, or death at their hands.”
“This is not a prison.”
She sighs. “It is.”
“Prison doesn’t give a fuck if you die! I do!”
She stares at me. “You can’t keep me in a cage,” she says quietly. “Even if it’s for my own good. That’s not living; that’s barely surviving. It feels like I’m putting off the inevitable.”
“Better to exist than to die.”
“Is it?” She meets my eyes. “What kind of life is it if I can’t do anything? If I’m just hiding here, waiting for them to get me anyway? They keep killing people. Your people.”
“They won’t get you.”
“You can’t promise that.”
She’s right; I can’t. But I’ll die trying to make it true.
“When I got the call,” I say quietly, “I thought you were dead. For about thirty seconds, I thought I’d lost you.”
She watches me silently.
“I’ve seen a lot of shit, Lila. I’ve watched people die. I’ve killed people. I’ve been shot at, stabbed, and beaten. Nothing scares me.” I look at her. “But that phone call? Hearing that they’d taken you? That terrified me.”
Her expression softens slightly, and I think there might be tears in her eyes. For me? Or because the stubborn woman is in pain?
“I won’t lose you,” I continue. “I can’t. So please, just listen to me. Stay close. Let security do their job. Don’t fight me on this.”
I’m showing weakness. Letting her see how much she matters. It’s stupid and dangerous, and I can’t seem to stop myself, but I think about what Nikolai said. Make her want me. I have to be a little vulnerable and show her I’m not the man she believes I am. Not completely, anyway.
“Okay,” she says. “I’ll listen.”
I nod, standing before I do something stupid like pulling her into my arms. “Good. Cinder will check on you in a few hours. You need to take the pain meds.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to be… what I was before. I’d rather deal with the pain and be coherent. It’s not that bad.”
“A true warrior.”
She snorts. “Not really. Like you said, I’m stubborn.”
“Lila?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you mad at Cinder?”
She sneers. “I don’t need your girlfriend poking at me. She doesn’t like me.”
“My girlfriend?”
“I’m not jealous. Have all the girlfriends you want, but maybe don’t force your girlfriend to take care of your wife. It’s awkward.”
I laugh. “Neither of you knows what awkward is. Get some rest. If you change your mind about the meds—”
“I won’t.”
I sigh and start to open the door.
“Maksim.”
I turn to look at her. “Yes?”
“Thank you,” she says. “For caring.”
“You’re welcome.”
Damien is waiting in the hallway. He takes one look at my face and nods.
“Where are we hitting?” he asks.
“Everywhere.” I start walking, calculating targets. “Every Albanian operation in Miami. I want them to feel what I felt today.”
“This escalates things.”
“Good.” I look at him. “I’ll keep hitting them until they can’t strike back. Until they’re too broken to come after her again.”
“And if they bring in reinforcements?”
“Then we hit those, too.” I text Sampson, calling in every man we have. “Get everyone ready. We move in two hours.”
Damien knows better than to argue.
I head to my room and change into black cargo pants and a long-sleeved shirt. I’ll be wearing Kevlar today. I have to stay alive to keep her alive. I open my weapons closet and load up. They fucked with the wrong man.
My phone buzzes. Nikolai.
Need me?
I type back: Not yet. But soon.
Say the word. I’m there.
It’s good to have brothers.
Two hours later, I’m standing outside a house where I’ve been told Bekir lives. We’ve hit two. I want to kill the fucker.
We bust down the door. We’ve lost the element of surprise, and they’re ready for us. At least, they thought they were. They’re not. Every shot is for Lila. For what they tried to do to her.
It’s over in five minutes. Six Albanians are dead. Bekir is among them. Arlind just lost his right hand. He won't let that go quietly.
We're back in the SUV when my phone rings. Unknown number. I already know who it is.
“Sokolov,” I answer.
“You’ve made a very big mistake.” Arlind’s voice is cold. “You killed Bekir. You think killing my men will stop this? You think I’ll walk away?”
"No," I say calmly. "I think it answers your question about how far I'll go. Touch her again, and you'll find out what comes after these three houses."
“Your wife.” He laughs. “So much trouble for one whore. Why don’t you just give her to me? End this war before more people die.”
“You’re going to leave Miami. You’re going to leave Florida. You’re going to forget Lila exists. If you stay, I will hunt you down and make sure your death takes days.”
“Big words from a man who’s outnumbered.”
“Try me.”
I hang up.
Damien is watching me. “He won’t stop.”
“I know. Neither will I.”