17. Maggie
MAGGIE
Jules looks out the window and lets out a low breath. “Well, this feels cheerful.”
“Don’t start,” I murmur, though my voice has almost no strength behind it.
“Oh, honey, I haven’t even warmed up.”
Ivan climbs out first and opens my door before I can reach for the handle.
I climb out, clutching the donation envelopes against my stomach while the humid air wraps around me.
Jules follows closely behind with one of the tote bags slung over his shoulder, while Ivan collects the rest, as if none of them weigh more than paper.
We hurry through the front doors and into the lobby, where the familiar noise of barking dogs and volunteers calling to each other should make me feel better.
Instead, the whole place feels different because Alexei’s men are everywhere if you know where to look.
One stands near the adoption board pretending to check his phone.
Another lingers near the hallway leading toward the kennels.
A third waits by the side exit, his arms folded, and his attention on everyone entering the building.
Jules mutters, “This is no longer a shelter. This is a very furry embassy.”
I almost laugh. Then I see him.
Alexei stands in my office, the door open, wearing a dark suit and an expression so calm it makes every nerve in my body light up. Viktor stands near the desk beside him, one hand clasped loosely in front of him, while Luka scrolls through his tablet nearby, a dark bruise visible beneath one eye.
The second Alexei sees me, everything about his face changes without actually moving much. His eyes lock on mine, icy-blue and intense, and for one weak second, my anger wavers under the force of him being here. But then the anger burns through me.
“Office,” Alexei says.
I raise my eyebrows. “Well, hello to you too.”
His eyes move over me quickly, taking inventory in a way I’ve started to recognize. Face. Hands. Clothes. Any sign of injury. Then his attention moves to Jules and does the same thing.
Jules lifts one hand. “I’m physically intact, emotionally irritated, and spiritually opposed to whatever just happened at the market.”
Alexei’s focus returns to me. “Tell me what happened.”
A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it, not because anything is funny, but because my nerves have apparently decided this is how we survive now. “Are you serious?”
His expression doesn’t change. “Yes.”
“You already know what happened.” I step inside the office anyway because the lobby has too many ears, too many eyes, and far too many people pretending not to listen.
“Ivan was there, Alexei. Or he was somewhere nearby until he vanished and came back with blood on his shirt like that was a normal afternoon activity.”
Viktor remains silent behind us. Luka’s attention drops to his tablet, which tells me absolutely nothing except that everyone in Alexei’s world has perfected the art of not reacting.
Alexei closes the office door once Jules steps in behind me. The small room feels too crowded, especially with Alexei’s presence taking up all the space in here, making my office feel even smaller than usual.
“I want to hear it directly from you,” he says.
My fingers curl around the edge of the donation envelope. “Why? So you can compare my version to the official Russian security report?”
Jules coughs once into his fist. “To be fair, I’d read that report.”
I shoot him a look.
“What?” he says. “I’m coping.”
Alexei doesn’t smile. “Maggie.”
“No.” I step closer before I think better of it.
“You don’t get to Maggie me right now. A man came up behind me in the market, said my full name, and looked at me like he wanted me scared.
Jules shoved him, and then another man followed us through the aisles until we ran like fools past tourists buyin’ candles and kettle corn.
Ivan appeared afterward with blood on his shirt and told me he handled it. So now I want to know what he did.”
Silence fills the office. Viktor looks at Alexei, but Alexei looks only at me.
“That man will not approach you again,” he says.
My stomach drops. “That’s not an answer.”
“No,” Alexei says quietly. “It’s not.”
“Funny how nobody around here ever actually answers a question.”
Jules moves beside me, and for once, he doesn’t make a joke. His shoulder brushes mine, just enough to remind me he’s still there.
“Did Ivan hurt him?” I push.
Alexei’s face turns colder. “Not enough.”
My breath stutters, and the anger inside me tangles with fear again, but not fear of Alexei exactly. Fear of how easily he says it. Fear of how much I believe him. Fear of the part of me that is relieved by it.
Jules lets out a small, strained sound. “Lord, I miss when our biggest problem was Kevin bitin’ through clipboards.”
Alexei finally looks at him. “Give us privacy.”
Jules immediately straightens. “Absolutely not.”
“Jules,” I say softly.
He looks at me, and all the stubborn protectiveness in his face nearly undoes me. “No. I don’t like this. I don’t like any of this, and I’m not leavin’ you alone with him while he’s standin’ there lookin’ like he’s two seconds away from orderin’ somebody into the Savannah River.”
Alexei’s eyes narrow slightly. “I would never hurt her.”
Jules turns toward him fully. “I know that. That ain’t what worries me.”
The room goes quiet again, but this time it feels different. He’s not scared of Alexei. Maybe he should be, considering the way Viktor watches him, but Jules has never known how to abandon me, and right now I can see that loyalty holding him right where he stands.
I reach for his hand and squeeze it once. “I’m okay.”
His eyes stay on mine. “Are you?”
No. Not even close. But I nod anyway. “Give us a minute.”
Jules inhales through his nose, then looks back at Alexei with an expression so serious it steals every trace of humor from his face. “If she walks out of this office cryin’, I don’t care how scary you are. I will make your life deeply inconvenient.”
Luka glances up from his tablet, and for the first time since I met him, he might be hiding a smile.
Alexei inclines his head once. “Understood.”
Jules points two fingers at him, then at his own eyes, then back at Alexei before stepping out. “I’m watching you, Russian Bruce Wayne.”
Viktor follows him into the hallway immediately afterward, while Luka closes his tablet and moves silently toward the door as well.
Before stepping out, Luka pauses briefly beside Alexei like he’s waiting for additional instructions, but Alexei gives the slightest nod of his head.
Then the door closes behind all of them.
I stare at the desk because looking at Alexei feels too hard.
He steps closer, but not close enough to touch me. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did he touch you?”
“No.”
His shoulders lower a fraction, but the rest of him remains locked down so tightly it makes my own anger rise again.
I turn toward him with my hands on my hips. “It’s now or never.”
His eyes stay on mine.
“I mean it,” I continue, though my voice trembles despite every effort to keep it calm.
“I can handle a lot, Alexei. I handle scared dogs, broken doors, donors who promise checks and never send them, volunteers who mean well but forget to latch kennels, and cats who act like tiny criminals. I can handle hard things.” My throat tightens, and I hate that it does.
“But I can’t handle bein’ kept in the dark while men follow me through Savannah and leave warnings in my mailbox. ”
His mouth presses into a hard line.
“I love Ivy,” I say, and the words come out before I can take them back.
“I love that little girl already, which is probably foolish and too fast and not at all convenient, but it’s true.
And that is exactly why you have to tell me what I’m walkin’ into.
Because if you won’t, then I need to walk out of your life before this gets worse. ”
Alexei remains completely still across from me as he absorbs every word.
He doesn’t argue or interrupt. He doesn’t reach for me either and that restraint rattles me more than if he had.
But I see the absolute resolve in his eyes, and a shaky little breath leaves me because I understand it before he says a word.
He’s not letting me go anywhere.
“No,” he says.
My pulse stumbles. “No?”
“No,” he repeats, his voice low. “You will not walk out of our lives because someone wants you frightened enough to run.”
“That’s not your decision.”
“It became my decision when they put your name in their mouths.”
Anger burns through me again. “You don’t own me,” I hiss, crossing my arms over my chest.
“No.” He steps closer now, and the air between thickens. “But I will protect you.”
I laugh once, breathless and frustrated. “That sounds real pretty until you remember protection without honesty is just control gussied up.”
That finally reaches him. I see it in the slight change across his face, and in the way his eyes move over mine like he’s deciding which truth costs less damage.
“I will tell you tonight,” he says.
I blink. “Tonight?”
“At my house. Six o’clock.”
I let out a frustrated breath and drag a hand through my hair. “You’re askin’ me to wait?”
“I’m asking you to trust me until then.”
“That’s a lot to ask right now.”
His eyes drop quickly, like he regrets how much he’s asking from me, before his eyes lift back to mine again. “I know.”
His answer takes some of the fight out of me, and I hate that too because part of me expected him to argue back or try to overpower the conversation entirely.
Instead, he stands there looking tired beneath all that control, admitting he knows he’s asking too much from me while danger keeps circling closer around both of us.
Walking away from a man like that suddenly feels a whole lot harder than it should.
“I have things to handle first,” he says. “Then I will tell you what I can.”
“What you can?” I repeat.
“What will keep you alive.”