20. Maksim
Maksim
I’m standing in the warehouse checking off items on the delivery manifest when Damien’s phone rings.
I open another box. My shipments have encountered some hiccups, and I know it’s them.
This is as much as they can do to strike back.
I’ve got extra security at all the houses as well as the clubs, so their big hits are interrupting my liquor deliveries.
I check every bottle to make sure they haven’t been tampered with.
Damien has walked away, talking in a hushed tone.
He returns and says nothing. I glance up and freeze when I see the look on his face. “What?” I ask.
“Fire at the house. The stables.”
Something inside me goes very, very still. “Lila?”
“She’s alive. Ran into the burning building to save the horses. Mike had to drag her out.”
I move quickly, throwing the clipboard at the delivery driver. “Let’s go.”
“Maksim, the fire’s out.”
I slide into the driver’s seat. Damien barely gets the passenger door closed before I’m screeching my tires out of the parking lot. Sampson tries to follow, but I’m faster.
“What the hell happened?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” His thumbs are flying over his phone’s screen.
“She’s fine?”
“Fine. Ava was on her way to the house when it happened.”
“I want a real doctor.”
He snorts. “Yeah, I’ll let you say that to her. She wasn’t inside when it went up.”
She ran into a burning building. Fuck. The woman has absolutely no sense of self-preservation. I’ve got her locked down, and she’s still in danger.
I weave through traffic, ignoring the speed limit and every red light. Images flash through my mind. Her trapped in the flames, the roof collapsing, and her body burned beyond recognition.
The drive takes fifteen minutes but feels like hours. I don’t bother pulling the car into the garage. That’ll take too long.
Mike meets me at the door. “Med room. Ava’s with her.”
I rush down the hall. The med room door is open.
She’s sitting up in bed with an oxygen mask covering half her face. Soot covers her cheeks and forehead, and streaks through her hair. Her clothes are filthy. And shit, she stinks. Not her, but the smoke clinging to her. But she’s breathing. She’s conscious.
She’s alive.
Again, relief at seeing her blue eyes is nearly my undoing. How many more times can I do this? How many lives does she have? I think she’s used four in a matter of weeks. There’s only so much luck a person has. Hers will eventually run out.
Ava looks up. “She’s okay. Smoke inhalation and some minor burns on her hands. Another minute in there, and we’d be having a different conversation.”
I nod, not trusting my voice yet.
Lila’s eyes meet mine. The mask over her mouth and nose fogs. Even exhausted and covered in soot, she lifts her chin defiantly, like she’s daring me to lecture her about running into a burning building. And I will. Later.
Mike appears beside me. “Boss, the girl has a death wish. She’s a full-time job. I’m going to need a raise.” He’s trying to be funny to lighten the mood.
I’m not amused.
“Get out,” I say quietly.
He leaves without another word.
I watch as Ava glances between us, reading the tension in the room. “I’m going to get some water,” she says.
The door closes behind her, and I’m alone with Lila.
I cross to the bed and pull up a chair, sitting so I’m at eye level with her. She pulls down the oxygen mask.
“Don’t,” I start.
“I’m fine.”
“You ran into a burning building.”
“I saved the horses.”
“You could have died!” My voice rises despite my best efforts to remain calm. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Her eyes flash. “I was thinking that Willow was trapped in there with her unborn foal. I was thinking Midnight would panic and hurt himself trying to escape. I was thinking those horses didn’t deserve to burn alive because some asshole wants to prove he can reach you inside your walls!"
"That's exactly what it was. They knew you'd run in after the horses. My horses are not your responsibility."
“Then whose responsibility are they?” She tries to sit up straighter and winces. “You’re never here! You’re always out there fighting this stupid war! Someone had to save them!”
The accusation stings because it’s true. I’ve been gone more than I’ve been home, trying to end this.
“That’s not the point,” I say through gritted teeth. “The point is that you put yourself in danger for animals that can be replaced.”
Her hand shoots out, but I’m faster. I’ve learned she’s got a hair trigger. My fingers wrap around her wrist and hold her hand about two inches from my face.
She glares at me.
“Don’t you ever say that again. Those horses are not replaceable. They’re living creatures that depend on us. You saved them from death once. Was I supposed to let them die now?”
“You should have let the guards handle it.” There’s less conviction in my voice now.
I release her hand, and she drops it back on the bed.
“The guards would have been too late. The smoke was thick. Another few minutes, and the horses would have been overcome.” She coughs, a harsh, rattling sound that makes me wince. “If you think I was going to just stand there and watch them burn, you’re out of your damn mind.”
The coughing gets worse. She doubles over, her body shaking with it. I reach for her instinctively, resting my hand on her back.
“Easy,” I murmur. “Try to breathe slowly.”
She grabs the oxygen mask and presses it to her face. Her eyes water from the coughing. I hear the wheeze in her lungs with each breath she takes.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask when her coughing fit subsides. “Water?”
She shakes her head, still breathing through the mask.
“It’ll pass.”
She pulls down the mask. “I just want to shower and check on the horses.”
“No.”
She narrows her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not going anywhere. You need to rest. Let your lungs recover.”
“I need to make sure they’re okay.”
“That’s Gus’ job. You nearly died today. You’re staying in bed.”
She opens her mouth to argue, then starts coughing again. This time it’s worse, more painful. She clutches at her chest, and her face goes red.
I stand, ready to call Ava back in, but Lila waves me off. She forces herself to take slow, controlled breaths through the mask until the coughing eases.
“I’m going to check on the horses.” Her voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. “You can try to stop me, but we both know you won’t.”
She’s right. I could post guards at her door, but she’d just fight them. And fighting would make her lungs worse.
“Fine,” I say, standing. “But not until Ava clears you. And you’re taking a guard with you.”
“Deal.”
I head for the door, then pause. “Lila?”
“What?”
“Thank you. For saving them.”
She nods once before putting the mask back on.
I find Damien in my office with his laptop open. Surveillance footage plays on the screen.
“Tell me you have something.” I close the door behind me.
“Someone cut the sprinkler lines.”
“Get everyone together. I want every person who works here questioned. Security, staff, everyone.”
“Maksim, that’s more than thirty people.”
“I don’t care. Someone betrayed us. Someone put Lila in danger. Find them.”
“And when I do?”
I meet his eyes. “Bring them to me.”
He nods, understanding what that means.
“What else do we know?” I ask.
“Started in the tack room and spread fast. I’ll call one of the investigators on the payroll and have him do what he does.”
“I want to see it.”
We walk out of the house. The smell of smoke in the air is a reminder of how bad it could have been. We walk to the stables, and I get my first glimpse of the damage.
“Where’s Gus?”
“Took the day off. His daughter had a baby.”
Convenient timing.
“How bad is it?”
“Mike said it’s not a total loss. Some damage to the roof and support beams. Nothing we can’t fix. The horses are fine. She got them all out.”
She sure as shit did. Because that’s who she is.
We walk over to the paddock, where the horses are staying as far from the stables as possible. “Call Gus,” I say. “He needs to be here. He can see his grandkid later. This is more important.”
“On it.”
We walk back toward the house in silence. "They didn't burn the stables by accident. Someone's been watching her."
An hour later, I’m in the basement, starting with the guards on duty. I pace slowly in front of them, studying each face. These are men I trust. Men who’ve been with me for years.
“Someone disabled the sprinkler system,” I say calmly. “Someone set that fire. One of you knows something.”
Silence.
“My wife could have died today.” My voice drops lower. “Three horses could have died. So, I’ll ask one more time. Who did this?”
More silence. But I see genuine confusion in their eyes. Fear, yes, but also confusion. They don’t know anything.
“Boss, we swear,” one of them says. “None of us would do that. No one got past us.”
"Then how did someone get into those stables?" I ask.
They exchange glances.
“There are blind spots,” Damien says quietly. “Near the eastern fence. The cameras don’t quite reach.”
I should have fixed that months ago. Should have upgraded the entire system. I thought what we had was good but it needs to be better. Someone is trying to kill me. Kill her.
“Fix it. Today,” I order. “I want cameras on every inch of this property. Motion sensors. Thermal imaging. I don’t care what it costs.”
“Done,” Damien says.
I dismiss the men, and they file out quickly, relieved to escape.
“Who was at the house today?” I ask Damien. “Other than the guards.”
“A couple of the girls stopped by. Briar and someone else. The cook. Gus’ replacement—new guy we hired last week.”
“Background check on the new guy?”
“Clean, but I’ll dig deeper.”
“Do that.” I run a hand through my hair. “She’s not safe here. She’s not safe anywhere.”
“We’ll find out who did this,” Damien says.
But will we find them before they try again? Before they succeed?
My conversations with the rest of the staff are not friendly. There are a few tears and a lot of shouting and threatening. And I got nothing. Worse, I believe all of them. I don’t think they would betray me.
I head back inside. The house feels different. It’s been violated. My home is my fortress. I want it scrubbed from top to bottom.
I should go to the club. There’s business to handle and operations to oversee. But I can’t leave.
Instead, I find myself climbing the stairs to her room.
The door is slightly ajar. I push it open quietly.
She’s in bed with the oxygen mask removed. Her face has been cleaned of soot, but the exhaustion is still etched into every line. She’s wearing clean clothes, the fan is on, and a blanket is pulled up to her neck.
She’s asleep.
I should leave and let her rest, but my feet carry me forward.
I strip to my underwear, leaving my clothes in a pile on the floor. The bed dips as I slide in beside her.
She mumbles something in her sleep and shifts slightly. I wait for her to tell me to get out. Or swing at me. I’ll be able to get out of the way before she connects.
But she doesn’t kick me out. Her breathing stays slow and steady.
I pull her against me carefully, mindful of her injuries. Her back presses against my chest. She fits perfectly. This woman was meant for me; I’m sure of it.
“Sleep,” I whisper into her hair. “You’re safe.”
She sighs and relaxes into me.
“Maksim,” she breathes. Just my name, barely audible.
Then she snuggles closer, her hand finding mine and pulling my arm tighter around her waist. That was unexpected.
I close my eyes and breathe in her scent. Her hair still smells like smoke, a reminder of how close she’d come to being burned alive.
I’ve never held a woman like this. I’ve never wanted to. Sex, yes. Pleasure, sure. But this kind of intimacy is new.
And terrifying.
I realize I would burn down the world to keep her safe.
I would kill every Albanian in Florida. Every enemy who even thinks about touching her.
My broken, stubborn, fearless wife who runs into burning buildings and jumps out of moving cars and fights like hell to survive.
She’s mine.
I need to figure out how to make her choose me. Want me. Love me.