Chapter 46
Maksim
T he next few days are nothing short of chaos as we try to carve out some kind of routine.
Officially, I go by Maksim Borisov now because I couldn’t stand to bear that snake’s name any longer.
Roman, Niko, and I are working around the clock: folding Ivan’s legitimate businesses into the Borisov conglomerate, sorting through data Akim sends from Russia, and scrambling to free as many victims as we can before they vanish for good.It’s endless paperwork, endless calls, money moving in every direction.
But after a few days, we finally have a plan, a place to start.
I’ve barely had time to catch my breath when Niko steps out to make a call and Roman gives me a look.
“I could use your help with the more…unofficial side of the family,” he says, and I can’t help but take a step back.
“Who are you and what have you done with Roman, the guy who insists on doing everything himself?” I tease, trying to keep it light.
He shrugs, looking more tired than I’ve ever seen him. “I can’t keep up this pace much longer. Between the legit businesses and the mafia stuff, sometimes I feel like my head’s about to explode. Luna’s worried the hours I’m working aren’t sustainable, so…”
“I’m here for whatever you need, Roman. My top priority is still helping Ivan’s victims, but that’s a long game. Pretty soon, we won’t have lists of kids to save—we’ll have lists of traffickers to hunt down. That’s when your connections will really matter. Just tell me what you need.”
I know it’s not easy for him to let go of control—hell, it wouldn’t be for me either—but I get it.
He spends his days signing contracts, approving projects, negotiating with shareholders, and his nights running guns, smuggling art, and God knows what else.
No one can keep that up forever without something breaking.
Honestly, I’m surprised he’s lasted this long.
After we assign a few more people to key projects, my head is pounding. We call it a day.
My motorcycle is waiting in the company lot, and the ride home is a reminder that I don’t have to hide anymore. I can hold Julia’s hand in public. I can just be myself without worrying about suspicious stares.
At home, Amalia is glued to her monitors, hunting down a bug in her code. I can’t help but smile because she’s got the same stubborn streak as her big sister.
Julia steps out of our little kitchen and wraps her arms around me, her sweet scent flooding my senses. For a moment, I just want to stay like this, fingers tangled in her hair, breathing her in.
When I turn with her toward her younger sister, passed out next to her laptop, I spot Lupe outside, sitting alone on a bench in the yard.
“She has days when she doesn’t say a word,” Julia whispers, and guilt twists in my chest.
Since she arrived, I’ve avoided her completely. Every time I look at Lupe, all I see is Julia on that floor, blood pooling beneath her, and the memory fills me with rage.
“I’ll go talk to her,” I say quietly, catching the worry in Julia’s eyes.
I’m not a man of many words, but I know what betrayal feels like, what it’s like to carry guilt. Maybe we both need this conversation.
My boots crunch over fallen leaves, the faintest hint of vanilla drifting on the evening air as I cross the yard toward Lupe.
I find her sitting on the bench, knees pulled to her chest, staring out at the pine forest. For a few moments, we just breathe in each other's presence, sharing the quiet.
“I thought the hardest part would be getting over him,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. I settle at the other end of the bench, keeping my eyes on her.
“It isn’t?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. The man who was our father for more than a decade is dead because I wanted attention from the wrong person. Julia almost died, all because I ignored my gut. I knew something about his story didn’t add up…”
I let her talk. Maybe it’s easier with me, someone who isn’t her big sister, someone with whom she can drop the act. She starts listing every detail she missed, every message, every secret meeting, her uncle’s hesitation to let her go, Amalia’s constant worry that he wasn’t who he seemed.
“What hurts most,” she finally whispers, “is that all my memories with him are good ones…” Her voice trails off.
“My mind knows what he did, but my heart…my heart remembers the man who brought me white chrysanthemums, my favorite, after I failed an exam. The man who listened to my dreams for hours and made me feel like I mattered.”
I don’t tell her that’s what predators do; they lurk in the shadows, collecting secrets and using them as leverage. She was just another pawn in a game she never even knew she was playing.
“I’m not going to tell you it wasn’t your fault,” I say gently, “because pretending it didn’t happen is not an option.
You have a good compass, Lupe. When you ignore it, life has a way of correcting you.
Julia and I…we’ve both ignored those voices more than once, and we’ll live with those consequences, too. ”
“So no matter what I do, I can’t fix this…” Her voice trembles, and for the first time I let myself meet her gaze, those eyes deep and wild as the forest.
“No, you can’t fix the past. But every day, you get a chance to fix something else. Your relationship with your sisters. With yourself. Your plans for the future. Your soul. All of that can be rebuilt if you care enough to try.”
I stand and, for Julia’s sake, rest my hand on Lupe’s shoulder. We’re not friends yet, but we’re family. No matter how badly she messes up, we’ll be here.
“I thought you hated me,” she murmurs, her cheeks flushing red. With her pink beanie and puffy white jacket, she looks so young, so fucking unprepared for everything life has thrown at her.
“I love your sister too much to ever hate you, Lupe. But that doesn’t mean I’ll forget.
And honestly, I think the guilt you’re carrying is punishment enough.
I hope you realize how lucky you are to have someone like Julia, someone who watched over you from a distance, who fought every instinct to run to you, just to keep you safe. ”
She nods, just barely, and even though she has a long road ahead, I can see her strength. She has the same spark as her big sister. And unlike so many who get lost, Lupe has a family that will pull her back into the light when the shadows close in.
Back inside, Julia stands with her arms crossed, where she’d been watching us through the window. I take her hand, and without a word, we climb the stairs to the attic.
This place has become our sanctuary in the middle of all the chaos, and after weeks of fighting different battles, I ache for her. I miss the way her body fits perfectly against mine and how her smile changes when it’s just for me.
Her hands settle on my chest, and she looks up at me. “Do you think she’ll be okay?” she asks.
“In time, yeah. Right now, she needs to sit with the confusion and guilt to be ready for the next time. Because there will be a next time, Julia. And she needs to know how to spot danger when it comes.”
I see her nod, and even though she wishes she could shield her sisters from everything, she knows threats can come from anywhere. There are too many broken people in this world, too many monsters hiding behind respectable faces and no one knows that better than we do.
She slips into her thoughts, gaze distant, and I find myself wanting to pull her back to me.
“I was thinking about offering Amalia a place in the organization if you’re okay with it.”
For a moment, her eyes go wide, a storm of emotions flickering across her face, and I wonder if I’ve just made a huge mistake. She’s always tried to shield her sisters, not throw them into the heart of our world.
But then she smiles, that private smile I wish I could steal and keep just for myself. “I think it’s a great idea,” she says, and before I can respond, she rises up on her toes and kisses the corner of my mouth, then my lips—one after the other—her mouth trailing down to my neck.
“Juls…”
But of course, she doesn’t stop. Her lips keep moving, hot and insistent, until my shirt and jacket are in her way. My leather jacket hits the floor first, then my shirt. My hands are under her sweater, but when I look at her, eyes dark with want and love, I freeze, cupping her face.
“Te amo,” I murmur, staring at her, my heart pounding so hard it almost hurts.
Her eyes glisten, and with a soft laugh, she jumps into my arms. I catch her, hands under her thighs, carrying her to the bed because she forgets she’s barely a month out from surgery, but I don’t.
“I’ll lose my mind if you tear your stitches,” I warn, but her hands are already pushing my jeans down.
“My wound’s healed, so stop being so gentle with me, por favor, amor. It’s been weeks since you’ve touched me, weeks of you holding back, afraid you’ll hurt me…”
“Say that again,” I growl, my voice low and rough.
“Amor,” she whispers, lips brushing down my chest.
“Again,” I demand, threading my fingers through her hair. I’m obsessed with it, and I can’t seem to help myself. I want to play with it, grip it, feel it wrapped around my hand because it’s mine. Every part of her is mine.
When her tongue glides lower, my grip in her hair tightens instinctively.
“Juls, don’t—” My voice cracks, old panic flickering at the edge of my mind.
She pauses, searching my eyes, and for a heartbeat I think she’ll pull away. But then something fierce and possessive flashes in her gaze. “Please. This is the last part of you that isn’t mine, and I want it, Max.”
I swallow hard as she pushes my boxers aside, her touch confident and sure. When her mouth closes over me, I freeze for a split second, my breath caught and body tense as I brace for old ghosts to claw their way up, for that familiar, suffocating dread to take hold.
But it doesn’t come. There’s no echo of his voice, no memory to paralyze me. There’s only Julia—her lips, her tongue, the soft, needy sounds she makes as she claims me, and the way her eyes never leave mine, grounding me in this moment.
A vein throbs along my length, hypersensitive to every stroke of her tongue. My head falls back into the pillow, a moan tearing from my throat.
“Fuck, Julia. Don’t stop.” The words tumble out, raw and desperate, and for the first time, this act isn’t about power or fear. It’s about surrendering to her, letting her rewrite every memory with pleasure so sharp it almost hurts.
Her mouth works me with a stubborn tenderness, and all I can do is hold on, letting the past dissolve with every touch, every breathless whimper she gives me.
One hand wraps around the base of my cock, her mouth working me slowly, driving me insane until I lose all restraint and push her head down. Her throat tightens, taking me deeper, and every word, every inhibition, disappears as her tongue teases every inch of me.
Her hair is fisted in my hand, and when I look down at her, I nearly lose it because nothing, nothing, has ever looked sexier than this.
I know I’m close, so I gently lift her head and kiss her. She tastes like honey and something salty, something that’s mine, and for a moment I wonder if I could devour her, consume her, just to keep her with me forever.
She looks up at me, cheeks flushed, the very picture of innocence, even though we both know she’s got me wrapped around her little finger.
“Tell me you liked it,” she whispers, and I catch the hint of uncertainty in her voice.
I line myself up with her, my hand brushing her thighs, slick and trembling with how turned on she is.
“Did you really like doing that?” I rasp, my voice thick.
She just nods, and that’s all the invitation I need. I slide into her in one deep thrust, burying my face in the curve of her neck.
“I’ll let you decide how much I liked it. Tell me, Juls. Does it feel like I liked it?”
I’m painfully hard inside her, and even though I want to take it slow, to savor every second, there have been too many weeks of holding back, of just holding her close while her body pressed against mine in the dark.
“Max…”
There’s no logic left, no thought, only her. In this moment, my entire existence narrows to the woman beneath me: her nails raking down my back, her thighs clinging tightly, her mouth begging for another kiss.
So I kiss her, over and over, praying this isn’t a dream and hoping I haven’t conjured her up just to escape the hell I’ve lived in since I was five. But every sound she makes, every time our tongues meet, reminds me she’s real.
“You want to come, baby?” I ask her while kissing her neck.
“Please.”
And when I swallow her moan and feel her tighten around me, I finally let go. I don’t know how long we stay like that, tangled in a kiss, but I could live in this moment forever.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll get to.