Chapter 21
LIA
Iwalk across the street, strange feelings pouring through me.
My life has been simple for the past few years.
Not easy, but uncomplicated. Work, help Mom, work, repeat.
Now, I’m fighting a smile as Maksim steps from his car and opens the passenger-side door.
My instinct is to banter with him, make a funny comment, something.
The urge to kiss him is real. I can still feel last night, all the closeness, the heat, the passion. I remember the shower afterward. Most of all, I remember how he held me, kissing the top of my head, snuggling me close. I felt like life was perfect and it was only going to get better.
Then I saw the news.
I step into the car without saying anything. He sighs, then walks to the driver’s side.
My thoughts go to Daniel, that poor young man. I know he’s not Evan. I get that. But the similarities are too close to ignore. I see Evan in many patients, and I think that’s one of the reasons I work so hard. But this one hit different.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“My penthouse,” he replies. “We can talk there.”
I fold my arms. “Okay.”
He takes my hand and squeezes it. I let him hold me for a few moments before I snatch my hand away. In the texting, I demanded to know if he was the one who was behind Daniel’s murder. I didn’t mean it. I don’t really think he’s capable of killing an innocent man… do I?
I think I just wanted to make him angry, or maybe guilty. Judging by his broodiness, I succeeded.
The doormen nod to us as we walk into his wide marble lobby. His Wharf-side building is the epitome of luxury. As we ride the elevator up, he stands close to me. My body hums despite my mind’s firm conviction to maintain distance between us.
I’d prefer to have this conversation over text. I feel like we can be ourselves more when we’re writing, but he’s not going to discuss anything criminal over the phone. Maybe that’s why he’s taking me to his apartment. He knows no one can listen to us there.
A reflexive smile touches my lips when I walk into his place. In the entranceway, he has some shelves with sambo trophies on them. There are photos of him and Nikolai, wearing a kimono with shorts, both of them grinning with their arms wrapped around each other.
He walks up beside me, looking down. He dares to smile. I quickly wipe mine away.
The rest of his apartment is spartan, with little decoration, though there are more photos of him and his brother on the walls. There are a few of his mother too. None of his father.
“Drink?” he asks. “Something to eat?”
“I’ll take a coffee,” I reply.
“Sure.”
I go to the window, crossing my arms over myself. The city sparkles below us, beyond his private balcony.
He carries the cups through and nods to the table. I go to the table, take mine, but remain standing. He folds his hands over his stomach, looking up at me from his chair.
“I’m the leader of the DC Bratva,” he tells me.
“The what?” I ask.
“It’s the Russian mafia.”
I put my coffee down, my hand shaking, before I drop it. My chest is tight, the same feeling I got when he brushed the hair from my face or kissed me or tied my hands with my own bra. But now something different grips me.
“You’re a mob boss.”
He nods. “In a manner of speaking.”
“What does that mean?” I hiss.
“It means that I’m a different kind of mob boss from the usual, in New York or LA or Vegas and all the rest of them. We deal in information?—”
“And in blood,” I snap. “We’re both capable of watching the news.”
He pauses, fixing me with those gray eyes. They’re not cold, not for me. I don’t think they ever will be again. This is a pivotal moment. If he lies or deflects, I know there’s no chance.
What chance did we have anyway? He watched me, used me, lied to me.
“And, where necessary, in blood,” he says, nodding. “But I didn’t harm that young man. He was a civilian. I don’t hurt civilians. And I don’t hurt people unless they deserve it.”
I drop onto the couch, my legs suddenly feeling light. “When did you last hurt someone, then? Let’s start there. Is this something you’ve done in the past, or something you do, present tense?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “This morning, just after I left you.”
My hand flies up to cover my mouth. “You killed someone this morning, and you’re just sitting there like it’s no big deal?”
“I didn’t kill him,” he grunts. “I smacked him around. He works for Conrad Vale, the man who was behind the theft – and most likely behind Daniel’s murder. I was questioning him to see if he knew where Daniel was. Clearly, he didn’t.”
“So, the man’s alive?”
“No, there were other circumstances.”
“What circumstances?” I demand.
He grinds his teeth. “Your name means light, Lia. You’ve had your struggles, you’ve had your tests, but you don’t know how evil the world can truly be.
You don’t know the depths people are capable of plunging to.
There are evils in this world I don’t want to inflict upon you.
I don’t even want you to have to think about them. ”
“That’s too bad,” I say passionately. “You said you’d give me the truth.”
He sighs, then he tells me. And he’s right. It’s awful. The man had a photo album in his apartment. A photo album containing the sort of twisted, sickening images that deserve death.
“Oh.” My shoulders drop. “Oh, God.”
“Hmm.” He glares at me as if he’s mad I made him share that. “Are you going to judge me for taking out that trash bag?”
“What about the others? How many have you killed?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Ten or so. Some were in gunfights, and it was them or me.
Some were twisted motherfuckers who had no place drawing breath.
But I’ve worked hard to make us different from everyone else.
Information, Lia, it means we don’t have to scramble in the muck.
We can avoid the usual bleakness that comes with this type of work. ”
“Except for the ten people you’ve killed and the blackmail and the collateral damage, you mean.”
He leans forward, jaw pulsing. “I know it’s hard, but you need to hear something. If I had to do it over, I wouldn’t take back a single goddamn bullet. It weighs heavily on me, but it had to be done. If I wasn’t in charge, there would be someone worse. I keep things civilized.”
“I wonder if Daniel Mercer would agree with you.”
“Conrad Vale is going to pay,” he growls.
“You’re going to kill him too?”
“I haven’t worked it out yet, but he’ll pay. And when he does, everyone will know who the king of this town really is.”
“It’s about ego, then.”
“It’s about a life I was born into,” he snaps. “It’s about making things better, however I can, better than my father, who was a goddamn tyrant. It’s about understanding you can only change things from the inside. You don’t want to hear it, but if I left tomorrow, things would be worse.”
“Nikolai said you turn over the really bad stuff to the authorities,” I murmur. “If you catch a politician or a businessman…” I swallow. “Crossing the line. Is that true, or do you kill them too?”
“I wish I could kill them,” he snaps. “And I wish the authorities always did the right thing. But these people bring heat. When I can’t get rid of them or get them arrested, I make them resign, then I scare them more than they’ve ever been scared.
I make it clear I’ll end their lives if they ever cross certain lines again. It’s complicated, messy work.”
I take a sip of my coffee, closing my eyes so I can think for a moment.
“This is so not my life,” I say.
“I know,” he replies huskily.
“I never planned on being involved with a criminal.”
“I know, Lia.”
I open my eyes. “You know, okay, that’s great. But what does it change?”
“Nothing,” he admits, and I admire him for that. “Except we both understand there’s something special here. We both understand?—”
“Don’t tell me what I understand,” I say. “I should’ve cut this off the moment you admitted to spying on me.”
“Maybe,” he replies. “But you didn’t. And that’s because you feel this too.”
“We’ve got some chemistry, sure. Big deal.”
“You can be apathetic, sarcastic, or any damn thing you want, but you and I know something real is happening here.”
I theatrically put the back of my hand on my forehead like a character in some melodrama. “Are you declaring your undying love for me, sir?”
He breathes out through gritted teeth before speaking. “Don’t mock this,” he snarls. “What we shared last night was real.”
He stares at me, looking hard for a moment. Then, suddenly hurt. A pang of guilt runs through me, which isn’t fair. I’m not in the wrong here. But it’s not like I can just flip a switch and stop myself from caring.
“I want to go home,” I say.
“I can have someone?—”
“Not to the townhouse. Home.”
I stand and move toward the hallway. But he’s quicker. He steps into my path, glaring down at me. How is it possible for a man to look protective and furious at the same time?
“Until this is over,” he says, voice husky, fierce, “you’re staying at the townhouse. We were seen in public. Anybody could’ve seen how much I care for you. You’re a target. Hate me if you want, but you’ll never stop me from protecting you.”
I place my hand on his chest, meaning to push him away. But then he does something that should outrage me. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in for a kiss.
And I let him.
Somehow, miraculously, it’s like we weren’t just arguing. It’s like he didn’t just admit to killing ten men. And ordering the deaths of many more.
He grabs my hips and pulls me right up against him. I gasp in shock, but then something else takes over. It’s like kissing him erases everything else for a few insane moments.
“You make such a beautiful, breathy noise when we kiss,” he whispers against my lips. “Like every time, it surprises you. Like you don’t know how it can feel so good. I feel the same.”
“I need to go,” I say.
“Where?” he snarls.
“I’ll go to the townhouse, okay? Just let me pass.”
“I have to arrange a car.”
“Fine,” I say. “Then let’s just sit in silence and wait.”
I return to the armchair, folding my arms, purposefully not looking at him. I can’t shake the feeling that I know him, on some level that goes beyond… facts. That doesn’t make any sense, does it? But when we’re together, I feel like I see a part of him he doesn’t show anybody else.
My phone vibrates. I check it to see if it’s Mom. When I see his name, I look up, smiling despite myself. I quickly push it away.
Maksim: Does this count as silence?
Lia: You’re very good at being a jerk. Has anybody ever told you that?
Maksim: Nobody who mattered. Until now.
Lia: You can’t just send some cute texts and make everything okay.
Maksim: Cute? Now, that is a first.
I can feel him watching me, so I do my best not to smile. I can’t believe how easily he makes me feel the breadth of human emotion all at once. Sad, angry, resentful, excited, longing, and hopeful all at the same time.
Lia: I still haven’t made up my mind about you. I still haven’t decided what happens when Mom and I are safe.
Maksim: I made up my mind the second I woke in the hospital and saw your face.
You don’t want to hear that, I know, but it’s the truth.
I made up my mind that you were the only woman who ever made me feel a damn thing.
If this ends with you hating me, that will never change.
I’ll always cherish your memory. I’ll always be changed by you.
Warmth spills through me.
Lia: I could never hate you.
I type, but then I delete the message and put my phone in my pocket.
We can’t hide behind the shield of texting forever.
“Why did they kill him?” I say, looking him in the eye, keeping my voice steady.
He swallows. He knows he can’t flirt his way out of this one. “To keep him quiet.”
“They thought you’d torture him to make him talk?”
He looks disgusted. “No, Lia. They knew we’d protect him. That we’d offer him a way out. They knew we’d pay his debts, so he didn’t have to work for scum like them.”
“So, Conrad Vale is a gangster too?”
“Conrad Vale is a businessman in over his head. He hired someone to do this. And he’s going to pay for it.”
Soon, my car is here. Maksim doesn’t try to kiss me at the door.
I don’t know whether I’m relieved or disappointed.
In the car, I get another text.
Maksim: I will never lie to you again. For better or for worse.
I put my phone in my pocket. Take it out again. Hesitate… then react with a heart emoji.
I know I’m sending mixed signals to him, but they’re nothing compared to the clashing signals in my heart.