by Lana Sky
“Family?” he echoes gruffly.
“Yes… That is what I need from you if you want me to stay. More than protection. I need stability. I need my family.”
One word, and it’s like a candle being blown out. The stiffness leaves him all at once, and he sways, nearly bringing me down with him. At the last second, his hands cinch my waist to the point of pain, but we remain standing. I endure the discomfort, smoothing my fingers over any part of him I can reach. He holds me so tightly I know I’ll bruise in the aftermath. At the same time, I savor this pain more than any other agony he could ever inflict.
It’s him inflicting it, not the monster living in his head.
Cautiously, his fingers creep into my hair, parting the strands as if memorizing every one, using me as an anchor to ground himself. His breathing eases first, and then his stability returns, and I can let myself relax into him fully without fear of falling.
“A family with you…” Soft, his lips nudge my throat, coaxing me to meet his gaze. He’s here again, his expression hollowed, but here. His lips brush mine almost in apology before he devours them, demolishing my defenses with his tongue.
We kiss hungrily, heedless of the heat and the chirping insects around us. I don’t resist as he shoves me down, pressing my body to the ground.
He slams into me from behind, his mouth at my throat, his thrusts frenzied. Desperate. I don’t move when he finally collapses against me, breathless and dripping sweat.
His hands smooth the hair from my face, his lips feathering over my shoulder. “You will marry me,” he murmurs, but he sounds crazed. Russian words mingle with more broken bits of English. I doubt he even knows what he’s saying. “Marry me. You will. I need you to marry me…”
His hand captures mine, forcing our fingers together.
“I won’t lose you,” he grates in between pants. “I can’t.”
It’s minutes before he’s coherent again, nudging me to face him as darkness fully descends, drenching us in shadow. “We will leave tomorrow,” he says. “Your siblings can stay here for a week, long enough to make arrangements for them. But then…” He fingers my chin, ensuring I can’t turn away. Visible even in the faint moonlight, his eyes glow. “We stay together. You have your normalcy, but we stay. Like this…”
I nod, unsure if he can even see me or not. “We’ll stay together.”
Chapter Fifteen
Maxim leads me to the terrace but doesn’t follow me inside. “Sleep,” he says. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning. I’ll make the arrangements.”
I don’t bother to ask him what “arrangements” could be made alone, outside in the middle of the night. Despite our breakthrough, I know better than to push for more.
So I enter the master suite alone, though I don’t sleep. Eventually, I wind up in the shower and linger there for hours until dawn finally paints the horizon.
When I creep downstairs to find two suitcases near the door, I finally risk hoping that last night wasn’t a fluke. For once, we might have communicated beyond sex.
Unscathed by the recent chaos, the kids are already awake and out on the terrace, still wearing pajamas.
“Are we leaving already?” Ainsley whines the second I join them, fully dressed. “But we’re having so much fun!”
“Your sister and I are leaving,” Maxim says. I jump and turn to find him exiting the house behind me. His outfit alone signifies the end of his vacation. The customary suit has made a reappearance, a striking shade of ebony. “We all would be returning to the city today, but the gas leak damaged the other house. Do you trust your sister to find a better one?”
Mikie mockingly rolls his eyes. “I guess.”
“You have one more week of paradise,” Maxim adds. “Then I’m afraid it’s back to reality.”
He steps back a respectful distance so I can say goodbye to the kids one by one. When I reach Daisy, I wrap my arms around her, but say near her ear, “Whatever you might think of me. It doesn’t matter. I still love you. But that also means I expect more from you. Watch out for Ainsley and make sure she cleans up properly. Got it?”
She nods.
“Sir,” Lucius calls from the doorway. “The pilot is ready.”
Maxim nods and places his hand on my lower back. “We’re on our way.”
Together we travel through the house and exit from the front door to find a black car already waiting out front. Maxim leads the way and ushers me inside before settling beside me. His hand finds mine, interlacing our fingers.
And with that, we return to the real world.
My second plane ride unfolds a bit more memorably than the first. Like everything in Maxim’s world, his private jet is nothing short of impressive. Custom leather recliners are comfortably spaced around the climate-controlled cabin, conveying an aura primarily for business over pleasure. The overall color scheme isn’t surprising given Maxim’s tastes—black and gray with modern accents.
“We will need to move,” he says. His voice conveys a sense of calm that contrasts sharply with his tense, stiff posture. Poised on the very edge of his seat, he keeps eyeing the silver watch on his wrist, his gaze turned inward. But for whatever reason, I recognize his attempts at conversation for what they are—a stab at maintaining our fragile sense of normalcy. “And quickly,” he adds. “I’ll leave the house hunting up to you, this time. You’ll start tomorrow. I have a real estate agent I can connect you with. He works fast, and the cost is no option.”
I raise an eyebrow. Compared to the danger looming overhead, house hunting sounds like a rather unusual priority. Not to mention the time frame. “Can you really buy a new house in a week?” I ask, the most innocent of questions to probe him with.
Something that could be a laugh trickles out of him, and he sits back. “I can buy a house in a week. But you will need to arrange the furniture as well. For everyone—” Sitting back, his hand falls over the end of my armrest, but he doesn’t reach for one of mine. “I don’t think I’ll have the time to assist you…” He spares another glance at his watch. When he faces me again, his expression is strained, though he flashes a lethal grin as if to disguise the unease. “I have a list of non-negotiable items I require, however. I’ll leave it up to you as to how to disguise them.”
My head swims at the thought of it—for the first time, I’m the one responsible for the manic move and décor. As well as stocking our sex room, apparently.
The term domestic is turning out to have a surprising amount of new meanings when it comes to him.
“The kids will stay with us?” I ask next.
His slow nod is all the confirmation required.
Relieved, I sink back into the leather cushions of my recliner. His responses so far make me bold enough to risk letting a more direct question slip out. “What about your grandfather?”
He stiffens, and I nearly kick myself for bringing up that dilemma too soon.
“I will handle him,” he snaps. “Parading you beneath his nose so soon would not be my preferred course of action… But he will not be so bold as to attack me out in the open. As for the others? I can handle them as well.”
Such as the mysterious Danil, whom Milton mentioned.
“Why did you bring me, really?” I can’t resist leaning toward him to brush my fingers along his forearm. He lets me trace a path from his shoulder all the way down to his wrist before he grabs my hand in return.
“Because of business,” he says, his gaze thoughtful. “Apart from me, you are in no less danger. Perhaps more. Some would be emboldened to harm you in my absence.”
“Oh.” I lick my lips. Does the answer sting? Maybe, but I swallow hard to disguise it.
“And…” He tilts my fingers for his inspection and settles on the one coincidentally meant to bear a specific type of ring. “I could enjoy your presence,” he adds tonelessly, as if remarking on the weather. “Your scent. Logistics aside, I could enjoy knowing that no other man could even look at you without my consent. Or th
at with one glance, one word, one touch, I could have you wet and ready for me.”
He withdraws slowly, dragging his fingers along my flesh in retreat. Then he turns his attention to the window on his end and strokes the collar of his suit. “I will let you decide which answer to accept.”
Minutes later, the plane descends, and Maxim recaptures my hand, smoothing his thumb along the back of it. “We’re landing,” he explains as the cabin shudders around us.
It’s nightfall when we finally touch down outside of Fair Haven, and it’s like waking up from a dream for a grim, colorless reality. The chill hits like a slap as we exit the plane for the night air. A black car waits nearby, helmed by an unfamiliar driver. Unsurprising, since Lucius stayed behind with the kids, ensuring their protection.
“Come.” Maxim draws me to his side, and we begin our descent toward the tarmac.
“Good evening, sir,” the driver greets as we approach. “The arrangements have been made for—”
“Fuck!” Maxim reacts first before I even process the events unfurling in front of me. The driver stopped talking, cut off mid-sentence. Why? I look at him, trying to discern a reason but nothing makes sense.
He’s falling. Red liquid goes flying as his body slumps against the side of the car, but something is wrong with him. His head? It doesn’t look right…
Because it’s missing.
“Get down!” Maxim shoves me to the ground at the base of the stairs. His weight crushes me down, shielding me entirely.
But I can still hear. Footsteps. They approach in a barrage, betraying more than one person. Judging from the tension radiating through Maxim’s body, they aren’t friends of his.
“Not so fast, little Maxi,” someone calls amid the echoing sounds. “I wouldn’t be so hasty. Don’t even think about reaching for your gun or calling for backup. Now stand, the both of you.”
Maxim stiffens. Then all at once, the pressure pinning me down recedes, and he grabs my shoulder, urging me to my feet. I blink to adjust to the darkness. Only a few spotlights illuminate this section of the tarmac.
But we aren’t alone.
At least ten men advance from the shadows to converge on our position. They’re bulky, but even as panic sends my thoughts scattering, my time with Maxim made an impact. Several details stick out. For one, they don’t move in crisp unison like Maxim’s trained men do. They’re disjointed. Sloppy. Some wear polished suits, but others—like the man who seems to be leading them all—wear a T-shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket. But all are armed, with weapons trained on us.
“Danil,” Maxim says. “What a pity. I always thought you were the smartest of your inbred branch of the family tree, but I was wrong. Obviously, you have a death wish to approach me like this.”
“A death wish?” A balding man, presumably Danil, wearing the leather jacket, chuckles, waving his gun casually through the air. His accent reminds me of Sevastyn’s, cold and crisp like the hiss of a snake. “Maybe I am just not as mischievous as Anatoli? I don’t like to make my prey sweat before I make my move. I prefer to simply—” He aims his weapon at the sky and fires. “Move.”
Maxim’s grip on me tightens, and he all but shoves me behind him. “What do you want?”
“Don’t play dumb, boy,” Danil warns with another hearty chuckle. “Anatoli requests your presence, but as for me… I’ll take the girl.”
“Take?” Maxim cocks his head as a low laugh resonates in his chest. “Is that so?”
“Usually, I wouldn’t go after such petty bait,” Danil adds with an apologetic sigh. “But, you see, Bruno here?” He reaches behind him and grabs the ear of a thinner, younger-looking man with long blond hair, dragging him to the front. “The fucker screwed up and got himself disowned. Botched robbery.” He tugs on the man’s ear, forcing him to kneel. “He has prostrated himself before Anatoli to no avail. Perhaps this little bounty will get him back into the fold? As a bonus, I’ll let him play with the girl beforehand, so he can finally learn what it’s like to fuck a woman outside of his little video games. Yes? Wait—” Suddenly, he aims his weapon over Maxim, his eyes narrowed. “Not so fast, Maxi. I’ve heard of your temper, but even you know when a man is outnumbered, yes?”
The men around him adjust their weapons as well, and Maxim’s grip on my arm turns bruising.
“Now,” Danil says, shrugging. “I suggest we do this the easy way. You will come with us for your spanking, Maxi.” He nods toward an approaching black van. “And the girl will go with Bruno.”
“Touch her, and you’ll be dead before your withered cock can even enjoy the thrill,” Maxim says.
Danil smiles. “If you wanted me dead, I would be dead, boy. But no hard feelings, eh? This is nothing more than the love of a father, helping to right his son’s pathetic mistake. Though you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” The corner of his mouth curls in disgust as his gaze rakes over Maxim, settling over his waist. “I’ve heard the old man likes to castrate little whelps like you. Render you sterile so that you can’t spread your seed without his say-so—”
“I suggest you watch yourself, Danil.” Maxim stands rigid, his fingers flexing at his side. “Between the two of us, only one may experience a castration firsthand.”
“Hmph. I think you and I will catch up first before I tend to your little friend. Then I’ll give you to the old man,” Danil taunts, his eyes gleaming. He gestures to the men behind him with a wave. “Come on, boys! Let’s go—”
“I’m afraid not.” The door to the back seat of Maxim’s car opens, and a lanky figure gracefully climbs out. Like a dancer, he unfurls his limbs, stretching them one by one as if oblivious to the violence surrounding him. An oversized black sweater adds artificial bulk to his slender frame, and his dark curls spill from a knitted hat lazily perched on his head.
Dima.
“What the hell?” Maxim’s grip loosens over me for a second, revealing his shock. Dima looks back at him with a wink before he whirls on his heel to address the hoard of men behind him.
“So predictable, Danil,” he says mournfully, eyeing the body of the driver nearby. “I mean, I told myself that even you wouldn’t be so dreadfully sloppy. So unimaginative. Alas, I was wrong.”
“Vadim?” Danil’s mouth contorts into a scowl, but he lowers his gun a fraction of an inch. “Have the two mutts reunited? How sweet. The last I heard, you were still selling your ass for treats, dog.”
“That is the nicest rumor I’ve heard floating around about me,” Dima says, slapping a hand over his chest in gratitude. “Now, your plan sounds marvelous and all, but I’m afraid Maxim and I have a previous arrangement regarding the girl. I’ve claimed a moment with her first, you see. Your wayward son will have to find another way to crawl back into Anatoli’s good graces. Adieu—”
“Oh?” Danil laughs. “And you’ll just wave your pretty little hands and make us leave?” He glances at the men around him. “I’ve heard you were a crazy son of a bitch, but you can at least count?” He aims his weapon at Dima’s head. “You were always a sniveling rat, but Maxi here? I’ve heard the stories. Any other day I wouldn’t dare come to you without an army at my back. But the rumors were right. A woman has made you soft, and I can assure you that Bruno—as well as the rest of us—will surely enjoy fucking her. And then there’s Anatoli… I’m sure he’ll take what’s left, eh boys?”
The men around him laugh, voicing suggestions that churn my stomach.
But the loudest laughter of them all spills out like music and comes from none other than Dima. “Come now, Danil,” he says. “You may be the most useless of Anatoli’s pawns, but even you must see it?” He gestures around us. “The girl is the only reason you are still standing where you are. Were Maxim any other man, I’d assume he wanted to spare her the trauma. As it stands, I think he’s merely biding his time to inflict the most…impact.” He brushes his fingers over his heart a second time, his head bowed. Then he raises his hand and cuts the air in a sharp motion. “I
, however, have no such qualms.”
Maxim grabs my chin, forcing my face against his chest. “Close your eyes,” he growls.
It’s too late.
Blood goes flying, and Danil falls over, his limbs splayed in unnatural directions. A heartbeat later, his son slumps over as well.
I breathe in, resisting the instinct flooding my veins. I don’t scream. I don’t go numb. I inhale the salt-tinged air, and when I pull away from Maxim, I don’t cringe from the violence at my feet.
I take it all in. Every grisly, horrible fucking bit.
“You can go now,” Dima says, dismissing the remaining men with a wave. They continue to raise their weapons, eyeing each other warily. “Quickly, before I change my mind and have my snipers take out the rest of you. And don’t even consider firing a single bullet.”
The men exchange another round of wary glances. Then, all at once, they turn and pile into the black van. Seconds later, it takes off, its wheels skidding in their haste.
As the vehicle lumbers out of view, Maxim advances a step toward Dima. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”
“This was fun,” Dima exclaims, utterly unconcerned by the other man’s nearness. “We should do this again. I mean, who knew sibling bonding could be such a rush—”
“How did you know?” Maxim demands, his throat cording. “I had ten fucking men on the perimeter. Danil and his shitheads had no hope of getting through.”
“Yes,” Dima concedes with a thoughtful nod. “That is, if Danil didn’t happen to bribe the airport manager into calling in the Feds on suspicion that your plane might be smuggling drugs from a foreign country. A smart move. Too smart. I believe his son came up with it, given the plot of one of his rather amusing video games. Have no fear, I was able to defuse that nasty situation, though it allowed Danil enough time to sneak past your defenses—”
