by L. L. Ash
The drive from the airport wasn’t too long. We rolled right into the Brotherhood compound and were met with more security. The place was positively swarming with the guys, some of which looked Russian, some of whom I knew had to be American and strictly loyal to Vishka.
“This way,” A man said with a pretty heavy New York accent.
It gave him away immediately.
“I need a gun,” I told him in a low voice. “I won’t let Mila stay here unless I’m armed to protect her.”
The man paused.
“You’re safe here. You’ve already been assured.”
“The only assurance I trust is the kind I give myself,” I said, meeting the man dead in the eyes.
He was bigger than me. By a lot. It didn’t mean much though, because I still knew I could take him down if I had to.
No means no most of the time, but I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Not with Mila’s safety at stake.
The man waved his hand at a guard beside him and the man dropped a pistol in his open palm, shouldering his rifle.
“There. Happy?” he asked, giving me all the attitude I expected from a man like him.
“Marginally,” I agreed before motioning for him to continue leading us on while I stuffed the gun into the waistband of my pants.
My holster was in Mila’s bag, so I’d have to wait before I could wear it properly.
“You’ll stay on the upper floor,” he said over his shoulder as we went up the stairs. “Vishka will see you over dinner. A maid will get you for the meal.”
More men passed either ascending or descending the stairs, then more roamed the hallways.
Not going to lie, the sheer numbers had me itching with discomfort. I couldn’t shoot my way out of a fucking Bratva safehouse with dozens of heavily armed men everywhere. It was also really claustrophobic. And I didn’t normally have problems with small spaces, so that said something.
“You, here,” he pointed to one room, then another across the hallway. “And our guest here.”
Well, nice to know I wasn’t considered a guest. Just my pretty companion.
“No. We stay together,” I said.
The man’s eyebrows dipped as anger started to flood his expression.
“No,” he sneered back. “Boss’s orders.”
Mila stepped forward, no fear in her eyes as she pressed a hand over the big man’s arm.
“Please, with all that’s happened...I’d feel so much better if I had Max around. Surely I’ll be allowed that boon.”
He frowned at her, his eyes dropping to her petite hand on his bulging forearm.
“Yeah, ok. I’m sure Boss will be ok with it if that’s what you want. But if this fucker gives you any trouble, you ask around for Alek and let me know.”
She gave him a warm smile and thanks then turned to see her room.
Alek glared at me as I went in behind her, but I ignored him. I didn’t need enemies, but he also needed to know that Mila was mine, and I would protect her.
“I can’t believe they gave you a gun,” Mila whispered when I shut the door.
“Technically I work for their boss. I’m just contracted.”
“Still,” she breathed, sitting at the end of the bed.
“You ok?” I asked her, plopping her bag onto the floor before crouching in front of her, looking into her eyes.
“I’m ok,” she said, letting out a shaky breath. “I’d just hoped I would never have to be in a place like this again.”
My throat welled up at the stress obviously marring her beautiful face, and internally I swore that when we were done with this, she wouldn’t know a stressful day the rest of her life. Not if I could help it.
“I got you,” I told her, squeezing one of her hands in mine before kissing the knuckles of it.
“I know, Max.” She smiled down at me and squeezed my hand back. “I wouldn’t be handling this so well if I didn’t already know that.”
Good. I’d protect her with my life.
Then again, that just said how important she’d become to me. Because I liked my life an awful lot. I wouldn’t give it up for just anyone.
“Rest for now, kisa. Relax a little. I know the flight was long and exhausting. Dinner won’t be for a couple hours yet.”
“I should probably get ready for it,” she shrugged helplessly. “Then again, I don’t have makeup...”
“You can change before we leave. Go lay down.”
She obeyed easily enough, probably just as tired as I was. Not that I’d let myself have a nap. Nope. I was on guard duty and I was in for a shitload of sleepless nights.
“Maxim,” she hummed from the bed.
“Hmm?” I called back before turning to her.
The woman was mostly naked, sitting on the bed and stroking the sheets.
“I can think of something else relaxing to do until dinner.”
If only I could let my guard down long enough to do it.
“You should probably just rest,” I told her, hating the way hope fell from her face as she laid and pulled the blanket to cover her body up to her neck.
Fuck, it was going to be a long couple hours until dinner…
Mila
Max was right beside me as we were escorted to dinner. Alek, who walked us to the fancy dining room, was scowling at Max again. I just clung to my man’s hand and hoped to God that the trip would be quick and fruitful.
I hadn’t actually told Max what my plan was. Zoya had given me the courage to run away with Max and that had changed everything for me. I just wanted to give her the same hope in return.
The beautiful redhead was sitting in a chair already at the table, a simple black dress wrapped around her body as she stared off into the distance, waiting.
“Zoya!” I called, which made her jump and turn toward my voice.
“Doch!” she cried back, standing quickly before she enfolded me into her arms. “I worried after you, my girl!”
“I am more than fine!” I promised, squeezing her hand as she took it, holding tightly.
“I am so glad to hear it! When I found out you’d run away with a lover, I couldn’t believe it!”
The woman’s eyes turned to Max for just a moment, narrowing briefly before she smiled at me again.
“How are you? Are you treated well here?” I asked her, lowering the volume of my voice.
The room hushed instantly as a man passed, sitting at the head of the table beside the seat Zoya had been occupying.
“Sit,” he told everyone, and the command was heeded instantly.
Even Max sat, giving me the chair beside my friend.
“So,” he said, flicking his napkin out before placing it properly on his lap. “You’re the girl. Miss Vasile.”
“I’m the girl,” I agreed, taking my response slow until I could feel the man out.
He didn’t look particularly angry or happy, but there was a cold iciness about him that told me I should not cross him.
“And?” he asked, blinking absently at me.
“And you’ve sent for me,” I reminded simply. “I'm happy to see how Zoya is getting along.”
“Zoya is fine,” he answered for the woman. “And so are you, apparently. Are you happy now, dorogáya?”
“Da,” Zoya said, not meeting the man’s eyes.
He stared at her for a moment, his cold eyes digging a hole through her until she uttered her thanks.
“Spasibo, Vishka,” she whispered, her chin raising with what little pride she could muster around the man.
“There. Everyone is happy. You may leave when you like,” the man, Vishka, said mostly to Max. “It’s not a good place for the girl.”
So quickly?
“Please,” I pleaded to him. “I wish to visit with my friend for at least a day or two.”
“No. You’ll leave in the morning. No later. My men will take you to the airport at dawn. Go where you want from there. But I’ll give you some friendly advice. Get out of Russia, and don�
�t go back home. Vasile will be looking for you.”
I read the truth behind his words.
Tată would be looking for me, and the reunion would not be a pleasant one.
“Fine,” I agreed. “Then Zoya will come with me. Maxim will ensure her safety until we’ve found a better place for her to settle.”
“No,” Vishka said again, the simple word carrying so much weight.
“Surely you don’t want her here...” I started, but he cut me off with a simple glance.
“Zoya stays here. With me.”
I turned to my friend and watched her cheeks pinken in either embarrassment or shame, but she didn’t say anything.
“You wish to stay?” I whispered to her.
“It isn’t her fucking choice, Vasile. You enjoy your evening together, then leave.”
Turning to the man, Alek, he pointed at us.
“I want them out by dawn. Understood?”
“You got it, Boss,” Alek answered with his American accent.
Vishka leaned down and said something into Zoya’s ear, making her blush a darker shade before he left the room without another word.
That was when dinner was brought in.
“Zoya,” I cried out.
“It is done,” she whispered hopelessly. “I don’t know why, but he has claimed me. I am as trapped now as I was with Nico.”
My stomach recoiled in disgust.
“Is he...does he hurt you?”
She frowned, but shook her head.
“No,” she admitted. “Not in a way I don’t want him to.”
As I let the words sink in, I felt Max's hand squeeze my thigh.
“Is there a more private place you can talk?” he asked Zoya. “I’m sure you’d like to catch up.”
Zoya nodded and waved away from the table. I stood to follow, and Max trailed behind me as we left dinner on the table in favor of privacy.
“Bring it to my rooms,” Zoya told a woman who was just setting down a platter on the table.
She nodded at her mistress then moved, hurrying ahead of us.
We headed up the same stairs where the sewing room was, and not surprisingly, that’s where we ended. A fireplace was already blazing inside and Zoya pointed to that velvet couch, motioning me to sit.
“You wait outside,” she told Max, putting out a hand so he didn’t enter the room behind us.
Max’s eyes landed on mine in question.
“I’ll be ok,” I promised, pressing my palm against his chest.
“I’ll be right here then. You call, you scream, I’ll fucking blow this door off it’s hinges. Alright?”
I nodded, but he sighed, looking unhappy about it.
“Fine. I’ll wait here.”
Max turned his back to the door and spread his legs, dipping his open palms behind his back into a relaxed military stance.
“Come,” Zoya told me, closing the door and shutting Max out.
My heart jumped a little at it, filling me with anxiety just being in a separate room from him. In a month we hadn’t spent much time apart, and none of that included time spent with a door between us.
I didn’t like it.
“Has he threatened you?” Zoya asked as she pulled on my hand until I was sitting on the little couch with her. “Please be honest with me. I can’t stand the thought of sending you off into—”
“No!” I interrupted her, shaking my head. “No, I’m fine. Max is very gentle with me. He’s also saved my life. He would never hurt me or threaten me unless it was to help me.”
I watched Zoya heave a big breath of relief.
“I am so happy to hear it,” she said, taking my hand in hers. “When I heard you’d run off with a lover...I couldn’t believe my ears. Then I overheard Vishka talking about his man and how he stole you away. I had to know for myself that you were alright.”
I smiled, squeezing her hands in mine.
“I am fine. And I am happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”
And that was the honest truth.
For some reason it surprised me that I could say that and mean it. Max was probably the best thing to happen to me since the opera when I was a little girl.
Smiling, she lifted my hands and pressed a kiss to them.
“Good. Good! I was so worried for you. I was afraid I’d driven you into danger with my fanciful imaginings.”
Shaking my head, I looked her in her eyes.
“Why are you still here, Zoya? Why hasn’t Vishka sent you away or...”
Why didn’t he kill her?
Her eyes watered for a moment before she shut them.
“He killed my husband and son. Right in front of my eyes,” she whispered. “Nico was no great loss to me. He was no good man. But my boy...”
A tear streaked down her cheek before she could go on.
“He killed my Kir. I know he was not a good man, but he was young. He could still be trained or...He could have changed.”
“Are you safe here?” I begged of her. “If you are not, we will take you with us, whether Vishka approves or not.”
She shook her head vehemently.
“Nyet! I will not go and endanger you. I am treated well enough here. He is a better master than Nico. Take heart in that.”
“You deserve to be free,” I cried, squeezing her hands so hard even my fingers hurt with the pressure.
She gave me a small smile as she shook her head.
“My wings were clipped a long time ago, doch. If I tried to fly now, I would do nothing but fall. I know my place here, and I am left alone by the new men. I can handle Vishka. His bite is not as bad as his bark where I am concerned. I am safe here. I will thrive, eventually. And I have this space to myself that is all mine.”
“Will you marry him?” I asked her.
“We are already married. I am a tool of power to him, to show the people that he is the new boss. For that, I am rewarded with luxury. There are far worse things in life than that.”
“But what of love?”
She gave me another one of those smiles, like she would give to a child.
“Some of us don’t need love to be happy. We learn to be content. And I am content enough. I have a lover and he gives me happiness.”
Lover during her marriage?
I couldn’t say anything to that. Zoya was intent on staying, and there was nothing I could do to change that.
“Alright. But if you change your mind tonight, I will just be in my room.”
Pressing her palms to my cheeks, she looked me in the eye.
“Have a good life, Doch. Enjoy what you’ve always been denied. Be happy, and love deeply. And find someone who will love you the same.”
“I think I already have,” I admitted.
With a happy smile and a kiss on my cheek, Zoya pointed to the tray of food already lined on the table in front of the couch.
“Then eat. Eat and tell me about the past weeks.”
I reached for a napkin, spread it over my lap, and did.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mila
Max didn’t sleep a wink. The man sat up in a chair beside the bed with his gun in his hand the whole time. And to be honest, I didn’t get much sleep either. Knowing Max was prepared for the worst left me full of anxiety, envisioning the same.
But nobody knocked on our door or disturbed us, and when sunrise came, we were packing up my bag and planning where to go from there.
“So, what happens when we get to the airport?” I asked him, shoving my feet into the high heels I’d worn the night before.
“Well,” Max said with a shrug of his shoulders, “that depends on you. Where do you want to go?”
What a question. If I could go anywhere in the world. If I could live anywhere in the world, where would I go?
“That’s a tough one,” I admitted. “What do you say when someone offers you the world?”
“I already answered that question for myself,” Max said, dragging out a grey t-shirt fr
om my bag which dislodged one of the shoes I’d just managed to shove in.
“And what was your answer?” I asked, trying not to get irritated that I had to put the shoe back in.
“I live it every day,” he said, voice muffled as he pulled the shirt on over his head.
The thing clung to his just-showered body like a second skin, and my eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from each dip and curve of his chest and shoulders.
Until he spoke.
“I rid the world of the bad guys,” he said, then grunted as he pulled on one of his boots.
My eyes jumped to his face, but it gave nothing away.
“And that’s what you’ll keep doing?”
“‘Til I end up dead one day,” he grunted out as he stuffed his foot into the other boot.
“What about me?” I whispered.
I thought for a moment he didn’t hear me, because he just stayed bent there while he tied his boots, then he stood with a sigh, fists pressed into his sides.
“I’ll take you where you want to go, and you’ll get to start all over again. Just like you always wanted. You can be a singer or a mom. Live to your heart’s content.”
“What about you?” I breathed so low that he definitely didn’t hear me.
“We should probably get going. We’re almost to our time limit, and I don’t want to see what Vishka does if we overstay our welcome.”
Max zipped up the bag and hefted it up before dragging it to the door.
“You coming kisa?” he called over his shoulder.
Fighting back the tears in my eyes, I put one foot in front of the other, just like I had always done, and I kept moving.
Zoya met me at the front entry of the house before hugging me profusely, telling me to live a good life. All while I was trying not to cry at the cold words Max had said shortly before. She patted my back, pressed her palms to my cheeks and kissed them before saying goodbye.
Max was already on the front steps, waiting for me to finish my farewell.
