Chapter 22
MAKSIM
“You know who did this,” Anton says, sparking the jumper cables as he stands over the three men. They’re part of a little gang, pups who think they’re wolves. A two-day-long hunt, involving street work and digital investigation, led us to them.
The men look up at Anton, fear in their eyes, but something more vicious too.
Desperate. I’m trying to puzzle it out. They look scared…
but not of us, necessarily. Maybe Conrad has some dirt on them.
Maybe that’s why they agreed to kill Daniel Mercer…
and maybe that’s why they’re not going to talk, no matter what we do.
“Easy or hard,” Anton says. “You pick.”
They pick hard.
I sit in shadow, nursing a glass of whiskey. My mood is foul. Two days without any contact with Lia. It shouldn’t make me feel so lost, but it does. I didn’t realize how important it was to see her, hold her, feeling human with her.
As the men scream and panic, I force myself to watch. This is who I am. The Bratva king. The Bratva beast. This is who I have to be.
Anton stops. Nikolai paces up and down behind them, his gun in his hand.
One of the men spits. “If… if…” He catches his breath. “If they had your secrets, Russian, don’t you think he would’ve used them by now? One half of a password doesn’t mean anything!”
I stand, emerging from the shadows. Their eyes widen to saucers as they stare up at me. As they stare up at the devil.
This is about more than the password for me, but I can’t voice that in this room. This is about the fact Vale sent men after Lia in the parking lot at her workplace.
“If it meant nothing,” I snap. “He wouldn’t have worked so hard to get it.”
“Data,” Anton grunts, sparking the cables again. “Too complicated. This is easier.”
Nikolai and I exchange a look as Anton does his work.
Neither of us likes this. We prefer fair fighting.
There’s no sport in this. But these bastards were seen dragging a broken young man into that rundown apartment complex.
Witnesses saw them enter with Daniel and leave without him.
They tortured and killed that boy and would’ve continued if the Bratva hadn’t got them.
Finally, one of them clears his throat. “Wait—wait,” he says, gasping. “Conrad… he mentioned something.”
“We’re getting somewhere,” I mutter. “Go on.”
“He’s got a secret data center, some high-level programmers there. Daniel knew about it too.” The other two glare at him, and he explodes. “Do you want to die, you idiots?”
“Vale will kill us too,” one of the others says.
“Men don’t die twice,” Anton grunts.
“Where is this data center?” I growl. “And these programmers, are they busy working on the phone? Trying to decrypt it?”
Maybe they think they can use one half of the key to work out the other half. After all, it’s just ones and zeroes. We have great programmers too, of course, but restructuring our entire operation is not a quick, overnight thing.
“I don’t know,” the man whispers. “I just know he has it. That’s why he hired us.”
I nod. “Anton, leave off for now. Nikolai, arrange some lodgings for our… guests. We may need to speak with them again. I’m going to dig into Vale’s property listings.”
I turn, walking away, not feeling a thing. No flurry of victory or sense of progress.
Two days, and not so much as a text.
That evening, I’ve got four of my guys researching hidden properties Conrad owns through various shells. I’m in my penthouse, looking across the city at the townhouse where Lia is staying. I can just about make it out. I know, from my men, that she’s alive and well.
No—alive. That’s all I know.
I take out my phone. I know I should respect her space, but it’s getting difficult. I feel like we’ve gone back to before, when watching her was the highlight of my day.
Then it’s like fate is playing tricks on us. Not that I’ve ever had much time for those kinds of thoughts.
She texts me the moment I bring up the thread.
Lia: Have you forgotten about me?
Maksim: I thought you wanted me to.
Lia: Wow, two days of radio silence… I thought you might leave me hanging for a while.
Maksim: I don’t play those games. I’ve been thinking about you every second of every day, Lia.
Lia: Have you been good… with the CCTV?
Maksim: It’s been difficult. I even almost logged on once.
But I’ve managed to fight the urge… somehow.
It took everything I have not to log on and see you run your hand anxiously through your hair, take those quick breaths to get yourself ready for a tough patient, to be there for your colleagues more than you’re there for yourself… because that’s your job.
I move to the couch, sitting, the world suddenly seeming less depressing.
Lia: Have you had any other reasons you might want to watch me?
My body grows hot immediately. Is she hinting at what I think she is?
Some men might call this mixed signals, but I’m sure I know her better than that.
She’s separating the steam we shared from everything else.
She’s lonely and working hard, and maybe before, she could deal with it.
It was all she knew for so many years. But now she’s tasted what it’s like to have somebody, she doesn’t want to let it go.
Am I talking about her or myself?
Maksim: You know I have.
Lia: What if I want you to tell me?
I imagine her in bed, biting her lip. Part of her will be fighting this, I know, wondering why she’s letting herself fly so effortlessly into steamy places again. But another part can’t help it. Another part knows we’re hotter together than we’ll ever be with anybody else.
Maksim: I wanted to switch on that video and watch you lean over a desk, watch those scrubs pull tight against your perfectly round ass, imagine me spanking you to make your thick body sway for me.
I wanted to touch myself like a deranged savage, wanted to stroke my cock while you had no damn idea.
I wanted to explode all over my screen as you went about your day.
I’m growing hard now. My mind is a haze. I think about last time, when her tits were bouncing, her juicy legs wrapped around my hips. But most of all, it was her face, the shock and the submission as she gave her flawless body to me.
Lia: Maksim.
Just my name, but I know what she means. It’s a moan in text form. She doesn’t want to tell me she’s forgiven me. She hasn’t. But she can’t help herself either. It’s complicated and messy, but not when it comes to this.
Our minds are at war, but our bodies are certain.
Maksim: Get yourself ready for me.
Lia: What do you mean?
I smirk. She knows what I mean. She just wants to hear it again.
Maksim: Slide your hand between your legs and gently rub your clit.
I want to think of you holding yourself back as I drive to your place.
You’ll start nervous and shy, and you’ll think to yourself, Am I seriously doing this?
Am I going to let him come by and fuck my brains out when I’m trying to be good?
But you’ll do it anyway because you can’t fucking help yourself.
And neither can I. Then you’ll want to move faster, but you’ll have to be patient.
You’ll have to wait for me. You’ll have to give me all the control because you’re so, so tired of keeping everything together yourself.
There’s a long pause. I’m breathing through tightly clenched teeth. My vision is growing hazy. I feel unhinged, ready. I fight the urge to reach down and squeeze my rock-hard cock through my pants.
Lia: This doesn’t mean anything. But get over here.
Maksim: It means everything.
I reply, pocket my phone, and hurry from the house.
I drive fast, my knuckles turning white as I grip the steering wheel.
Nodding to my men, I hurry up the stairs to the townhouse and hammer on the door. She answers it in a bathrobe. My dick is leaking in anticipation. Her hair is free, no makeup on her face, as though she showered recently.
I surge inside and pull her into my arms, kissing her passionately. She reaches behind me and pushes the door closed. I grip her ass indulgently, greedily. She shivers against me.
“Did you do what you were told?” I snarl in her ear.
“Yes,” she whimpers. “But this is… just this.”
“It’s all I need,” I tell her, and she looks offended. I kiss her on the cheek. “For now.”
She squeals with delight when I lift her into my arms. But halfway up the stairs, she wriggles like she can’t wait. She pouts up at me with a devastatingly beautiful look on her face. It’s dangerous and nervous all at once.
“You want it here,” I growl, reading her. “You want it rough and hard. You want me to take you like the Bratva king.”
Oh, fuck.
I’m right.
Her breathy pants and the look on her face tell me everything I need to know.
I put her down, facing away from me. She leans forward, bracing her hands on the higher stairs. I can’t fucking believe this. This is a dream come true. I don’t think about after, when she might tell me this was just sex.
I tear off her bathrobe, gasping when I see her smooth round ass. Her inner thighs tell me she wasn’t lying. They’re glistening and wet, her juices dripping down her silk legs.
My hand flies to my belt and rips it away. I pull my pants down just enough for my cock to spring up.
“You’re filth,” I growl. “In the best possible way. Filthy as fuck, just for me.”
“Yes, yes,” she moans.
“Tried to be good. Tried to have morals. But in the end, you need your Bratva man’s cock deep in that tight, needy pussy.”
She shifts her hips from side to side, her ass swaying. “Maksim,” she says tightly.
I smooth my hands over her ass, pushing her thick folds together, fixating on the glorious size of her. A string of precome slides from my cock and onto her skin. I watch it slide down her skin in wonder.
“How wet did those texts get you?” I growl, guiding my shaft to her core.
Her entrance kisses me. So. Fucking. Wet and hot. She burns against my tip as I hold myself there, teasing her, teasing myself.
“Maksim,” she pants.
“Tell me,” I demand, and I sound like I do when dealing with business. “Now.”