CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
An eye for an eye.
Ari
The spring rain lashes against the windows, a relentless drumbeat that matches the rhythm of my heart. I sit in the corner of our suite, the flickering firelight casting long shadows on the walls.
Maxsim’s words from earlier replay in my mind on a loop, the seriousness of his tone cutting deeper every time: “If you’re wrong, you’ll have blood on your hands.”
A faint sound draws my attention—a door opening, followed by muffled footsteps in the hallway. My body tenses, every instinct on high alert. Rising quietly, I pad to the suite door and crack it open just enough to see a shadow moving in the dimly lit corridor.
It’s Nikolai.
He’s moving fast, his shoulders stiff, a small leather case clutched tightly in one hand.
My stomach twists.
I’ve felt it for weeks—something off about him. The way he hesitates when answering Maxsim. The strange questions he’s asked me about my family And during the ambush… the way he faltered, just for a second.
Before I can second-guess myself, I step into the hallway, keeping my steps light. The cold floor chills my bare feet as I trail him through the darkened corridors. My years of sneaking around serve me as I pad silently, dipping into shadows when necessary.
Nikolai doesn’t sense my presence, but his movements are quick, deliberate, like a man with a destination he doesn’t want anyone to know about.
When he reaches the back entrance, he pauses, glancing over his shoulder. I press myself against the wall, heart pounding as his gaze sweeps the hallway.
A second later, he pushes open the kitchen door and steps into the storm.
I hesitate. Go find Maxsim, a small voice whispers in my head. Tell him what you’ve seen.
But I can’t. Not until I have something concrete.
Gripping the edge of the door, I follow Nikolai into the rain.
The rain pelts me, soaking through my robe and plastering my hair to my face. The wind cuts like a blade, and I keep to the shadows, trailing Nikolai as he heads toward the edge of the property.
A small guesthouse I’ve never noticed is shrouded in darkness. Nikolai moves with purpose, his steps quick and deliberate. When he reaches the door, he hesitates, glancing around again. I duck behind a tree, holding my breath.
The door creaks open, spilling light into the rain before closing with a quiet click.
I move closer, the storm masking the sound of my footsteps. Pressing myself against the side of the guesthouse, I peer through the window.
Inside, Nikolai paces, his hair damp and his expression tight with tension. A second man stands across from him, his back to me. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in dark clothes. The tension between them is palpable.
I strain to hear their conversation and thank my ancestors when the storm lets up just in time.
“This is everything Sal needs,” Nikolai says, his voice sharp and urgent. “Every route, every shipment. It’s all there.”
The other man chuckles, low and cruel. “Sal’s impressed with your work. But he’s got one question.”
Nikolai stiffens. “What?”
“Why keep the girl alive?”
My blood runs cold.
“She’s leverage,” Nikolai snaps. “Maxsim will bleed for her, and when the time comes, she’ll be the key to breaking him.”
The other man grunts. “If you’re wrong about this—”
“I’m not,” Nikolai interrupts. “Maxsim won’t see it coming. By the time he realizes what’s happening, it’ll be too late.”
The weight of his words crashes over me, heavy and suffocating.
Nikolai isn’t just betraying Maxsim. He’s working with Sal, feeding him information that could destroy everything. And me? I’m just a pawn in his game.
I stumble back, the rain slicking the ground beneath my feet. My mind races, every instinct screaming at me to run, to warn Maxsim—
CRACK.
The sound of a snapping branch freezes me in place.
Nikolai’s head snaps toward the window. His eyes meet mine through the glass, and for a moment, the world stops.
The door flies open, and Nikolai steps out, his expression dark and dangerous. “Ari?”
I force myself to stand tall, ignoring the rain streaming down my face. “You bastard.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Nikolai’s voice is tight with fury, but there’s a flicker of panic in his eyes.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I say, my voice sharp despite the terror gripping me. “Selling out Maxsim? Working with Sal? Do you even realize what you’ve done?”
His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he might deny it. But then his face twists with bitterness. “You don’t understand, Ari. You never could. Maxsim doesn’t trust me. He never has. I was never more than a dog to him—loyal, obedient, disposable.”
“So you betray him?” I snap. “You betray all of us? For what? Money? Power?”
“For survival!” Nikolai roars, his voice breaking. “You think this life gives us choices? It’s Sal or nothing. You’d do the same if you were me.”
“I would never betray family,” I say, trembling.
“Family doesn’t mean shit,” Nikolai spits, stepping closer. “And now you’ve left me no choice.”
His hand moves toward his jacket, and I see the glint of a gun.
Before I can react, a voice cuts through the storm.
“Drop it.”
Maxsim steps into view, his gun trained on Nikolai. Moving like a predator, his steps are deliberate. The rain streaks his face, but his eyes burn with icy fury.
“Nikolai,” he says, his voice low and deadly. “You’ve disappointed me.”
Nikolai stiffens, his gun faltering. “Max—”
“Don’t,” Maxsim interrupts. “You’ve already said enough.”
The two men stare each other down, and I hold my breath, my heart pounding as Nikolai’s hand trembles on the gun.
“You think Sal will save you?” Maxsim asks, his tone razor-sharp. “You think he’ll let you live once you’ve outlived your usefulness?”
Nikolai doesn’t answer, but the panic in his eyes is answer enough.
Maxsim’s finger tightens on the trigger. “Lower the gun.”
Nikolai hesitates, his face twisting with rage and fear.
And then he moves.
The shot rings out, and Nikolai crumples to the ground, clutching his leg as blood pools beneath him.
Maxsim steps closer, his gun still aimed. “You made a choice, Nikolai. And this is where it ends.”
Anton and Pasha appear, dragging Nikolai to his feet. “You’ll never win, Maxsim. This life will destroy you.”
“Doubt it,” he replies sharply, his gaze shifting.
I want to look away. The weight of his fury and protectiveness is almost too much. “There’s someone else,” I say quickly. “Nikolai wasn’t alone. He was talking to someone.”
Maxsim’s jaw tightens. “Inside?”
I nod. “He might still be in there.”
Maxsim doesn’t hesitate. He jerks his head toward the guesthouse, issuing a clipped order to Anton and Pasha. “Secure Nikolai. Don’t let him out of your sight.”
“What about—” Anton starts, but Maxsim cuts him off with a look.
“I’ll handle it.”
The air shifts as Maxsim turns toward the guesthouse. I follow him before I can stop myself.
“Ari,” Maxsim says without turning, his voice low and commanding. “One close call is more than enough for one evening.”
I nod, gripping the damp fabric of my robe. “Alright. You take this one.”
He smirks as thunder claps overhead. “Thanks.”
The guesthouse door is ajar, light spilling into the stormy night. Maxsim moves silently, his gun raised as he pushes the door open and steps inside. I see a man in his mid-40s with a scar running down the side of his face. His hand hovers near his waistband, where I catch a glimpse of a holstered gun.
Maxsim’s voice slices through the tension. “Don’t even think about it.”
The man freezes, but it’s not Maxsim’s voice that stops him—it’s the two German Shepherds that are blocking his exit. Their low, menacing growls vibrate through the room. Teeth bared, their muscles are coiled waiting for the signal to strike. The dogs’ eyes gleam in the dim light, locked onto the stranger with unwavering focus.
The man’s gaze flickers between Maxsim and the snarling beasts, weighing his options. Slowly, he raises his hands, his expression caught between defiance and fear.
“Smart choice,” Maxsim says coldly, stepping into the room. His gun is steady, aimed directly at the man’s chest. “Who are you? And why the hell are you on my property?”
The man’s jaw tightens, his silence betraying a flicker of hesitation. His eyes dart toward the open laptop on the table, and Maxsim catches the movement instantly. Without taking his eyes—or his gun—off the intruder, Maxsim barks a command in Russian.
The dogs respond immediately, their growls deepening as they inch closer, their fangs glinting in the glow of the lamp.
“You’ve got two options,” Maxsim continues, his voice dangerously calm. “Start talking, or I let them finish what you started.”
The man exhales sharply, his defiance faltering. “You don’t understand—this isn’t about you. It’s about the bigger picture.”
Maxsim’s jaw ticks, and he steps closer, the barrel of his gun leveled with the man’s heart. “Try again.”
The man glances toward the dogs, their hackles raised and their teeth bared. His hand twitches toward his waistband, the faintest hint of desperation creeping into his expression.
It’s a mistake.
The crack of Maxsim’s gun is deafening in the enclosed space. The man cries out, collapsing to his knees as blood blooms from his shoulder. The dogs surge forward at the noise, but Maxsim barks another command, and they halt, teeth snapping inches from the man’s face.
“You just made your last mistake,” Maxsim growls, kicking the gun away from the man’s reach. “Talk—or they’ll do what they’ve been trained to do.”
The man’s lips curl into a defiant sneer, but his fear is unmistakable. “You think this scares me? You think I’m the only one—”
The dog’s growl rumbles like thunder as they circle him, ready to strike at the slightest signal.
Maxsim crouches beside him, his voice low and dangerous. “Who are you working for?”
The man groans, clutching his bleeding shoulder, but he doesn’t answer. Maxsim’s jaw tightens. With another command in Russian, the dogs snap closer, their teeth grazing the fabric of the man’s jacket. He flinches, his bravado cracking under the weight of their snarls.
“You don’t understand,” the man says finally, his voice shaking. “It’s bigger than Sal—bigger than any of us.”
Maxsim’s gaze hardens, his voice razor-sharp. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
Anton and Pasha appear, and Maxsim nods. “Get me answers.”
“Right away,” Anton mutters as he and Pasha haul the man away. I watch the dogs sit beside my husband and realize one thing with absolute certainty: the storm isn’t coming. It’s already here.