ME: Balterra has ties to Ares, then.
REMI: Seems like it. Whatever this was might’ve died with those three. We won’t know until we question Casper.
ME: Yeah. Maksim says he’ll handle him tomorrow.
The typing bubbles appear and vanish once before her next message comes through.
REMI: Val, I’m happy you told everyone. You deserve to be happy. I love you, pendeja.
Sweet, but it also feels suspiciously like she’s trying to get rid of me.
ME: Are you with Kuroda?
REMI: What? You think you’re the only one who can get folded over a car?
I snort and make a mental note to add that particular position to my to-do list.
ME: Stay safe.
With a laugh, I toss my phone onto the sofa and go looking for Maksim. The shower shut off almost fifteen minutes ago, yet he’s still in the bathroom. He hasn’t said much since we got back to his place. He’s shaken by the ambush, by the threat of a blood oath looming over my head, by everything...and maybe a little overwhelmed that our relationship is suddenly out in the open. With everyone, including my dad. Before he and I even had the chance to sit down and define what we are.
Even so…
Knowing we’re done hiding, done sneaking around like we’re doing something wrong…it makes me feel weightless.
I step into the ensuite and find him standing in front of the mirror, face covered in shaving cream, and a straight razor in one hand. But it isn’t the glint of the blade that grabs my attention. It’s the fresh ink on his skin.
“Maksim.” I say his name softly, careful not to startle him while he’s got the blade to his throat. His eyes meet mine in the reflection, and instantly, the hard edges fall away.
“That’s new,” I say, stepping beside him, my heart fluttering as I take in the beautiful black artistry. One I’d know anywhere. I glance back up at him. “Remi did this?”
He nods. “She did. I meant to show you today, but after everything that happened, it kind of fell to the wayside.”
“They’re hummingbirds,” I murmur. “For me?”
“Always for you.”
“It’s beautiful.”
Maksim smiles and leans in like he wants a kiss but stops when he remembers the shaving cream on his face.
“I don’t mind,” I giggle, and lift my hand to cover his, the one holding the razor.
“Can I?”
I know what I’m asking. It’s not just about shaving, it’s about control, surrender, and trust—something that has never come easy to him.
“Do it,” he says, angling his jaw and offering me his throat without hesitation.
The butterflies in my stomach take off like sparks. I curl my hand around his chin and tilt his face just right. The first slow drag whispers across his skin, clean and careful, and his breath catches, not from fear, but…something else.
I can feel his eyes on me, watching my reflection in the mirror. Watching every move I make like he’s trying to memorize every detail.
This moment seems small, but we both know better. After everything tonight, this is another step, another piece of trust laid down between us, fitting into place.
Those three words sit on my tongue, aching to be spoken, but I swallow them down. He’s not ready. And I want him to be when he hears them.
“They won’t touch you,” he finally says as I stop to wipe the blade clean. His voice is lethal. “I don’t care if I have to take on the whole goddamn organization. No one touches you.”
