Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CAMILLA
The slow song fades into silence, I find myself completely melting into Maksim's arms.
His hold on me is surprisingly soft, devoid of the iron control he usually wraps around everything in his life. The playful challenge between us has evaporated, leaving behind a quiet, intensely charged stillness that makes my heart pound against my ribs.
Looking up into his dark, focused eyes, the reality hits me—he is truly trying. Even if he doesn't fully know how to be normal, even if security codes and lockdowns are his native language, he is trying for me.
The music dies out entirely.
Maksim doesn't pull away right away. Instead, he leans down, his warm lips pressing gently against my forehead in a lingering kiss that feels more tender than anything we've shared tonight. When he pulls back, we just stare at each other, the unspoken words heavy and thick in the space between us.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re back in the leather-scented quiet of his dark SUV, speeding down the empty highway toward the estate.
Neither of us says a word. The heavy silence between us isn't cold or tense—it’s entirely comfortable.
His massive, warm hand is wrapped around mine, our fingers tightly laced together on the center console.
I lean my head back against the leather seat, watching the city lights blur past the tinted window, a soft sigh escaping my chest.
I can't even remember the last time I felt this genuinely happy, or this deeply at rest.
When we pull up to the estate and step into the grand foyer, the warm, floating feeling inside me instantly shatters.
Lydia is standing in the middle of the room, looking effortlessly stunning in a sheer, curve-hugging jumpsuit with a tailored designer jacket draped casually over her shoulders. Her dark eyes sweep over us, lingering on our laced fingers before settling on Maksim.
Maksim’s posture instantly hardens, his grip on my hand tightening slightly. "What are you doing here, Lydia?" his voice drops into a cold, lethal register.
"I have information about Viktor," she says smoothly, crossing her arms. She shifts her gaze toward me with a slow, patronizing smirk before flicking her eyes back to Maksim, clearly implying she needs him alone. "It's urgent. In private, Maksim."
Part of me braces for him to send me upstairs, to handle his business with her behind closed doors the way men like him always do. But Maksim doesn't let go of my hand.
"Say whatever you came to say," Maksim responds evenly, his tone unyielding. "Camilla stays with me. I don't keep secrets from her."
Lydia’s smirk falters for a fraction of a second, her jaw tightening before she recovers with a quiet, bitter laugh.
"How cute," she drawls. She says it with casual, venomous intimacy, clearly trying to make me feel small and humiliated in my own home.
My chest tightens, the insult cutting deep beneath my skin, but I force myself to stand tall beside Maksim, keeping my expression completely unreadable and composed. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.
Maksim feels the shift in the air immediately. He turns his head slightly, his sharp eyes catching the brief flash of pain in my eyes before his gaze snaps back to Lydia, blazing with lethal fury.
"That's enough," Maksim's voice cuts through the foyer like a shattered blade, cold and absolute. "Whatever access or privilege you think you once had here, Lydia, is gone."
Lydia blinks, taken aback by the sheer brutality in his tone. "Maksim, I came here to give you—"
"You either speak to both of us, or you can leave. Now," he cuts her off coldly.
Lydia stands frozen for a breathless second, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of raw embarrassment and blinding anger. Her eyes flash furiously as she looks between the two of us, realizing she has completely lost her ground.
Without another word, she turns on her heels and storms out of the mansion, slamming the massive front doors so hard the noise echoes through the entire house.
As soon as she’s gone, I turn on my heel and march up the grand staircase.
Maksim’s heavy, deliberate footsteps echo right behind me as he follows me all the way into our private suite.
I can feel the tension rolling off him—he’s braced for impact, expecting an explosion of anger, sharp jealousy, or another intense confrontation that devolves into heated accusations and physical distraction.
Instead, I stop in the center of the room, turn around, and look at him with complete, chilling calm.
"Thank you for standing up for me and showing her we are partners in this. I will not be just another woman in a line of women you’ve used and dismissed,," I say, my voice steady. "I won't be the current favorite until you grow tired of me."
The accusation hits him with the force of a physical strike. Maksim flinches slightly, his dark brows drawing tight together. "There has been no one since the auction, Camilla," he says, his voice gravelly, laced with a harsh, unyielding honesty. "No one."
I look at him, searching his rigid face, the fierce gray-blue eyes that usually read so unreadable. "I want to believe you," I tell him plainly, the truth hanging heavy in the dim room. "But I genuinely don't know."
I wait for him to close the distance. I brace myself for him to use his towering frame, his touch, or heat to blur the lines and force this conversation into desire like he usually does.
He doesn't step toward me.
Maksim stands his ground, staring at me for a long, quiet moment while his jaw clenches and unclenches. He reads the distance in my posture, and instead of trying to tear it down, he respects it.
"I'll give you space," he says softly, his deep voice carrying a strange, heavy weight. He takes a step back toward the door, holding my gaze. "The choice is yours, Camilla. You come to me when you're ready, or you stay away. I won't force you."
He turns and quietly exits the suite, leaving the door unlatched behind him.
I am left completely alone in the silent room, staring at the empty doorway. The realization sinks in slowly—he respected the line I drew. He didn't push, he didn't demand, and he didn't try to manipulate the moment. And somehow, that restraint unsettles me far more than if he had crossed it.