“I know.”
Before I can reply, voices echo in the distance.
“Fuck.” Maksim scales the wooden gate in seconds, reaching back for me. “Jump, I’ve got you.”
I don’t hesitate. He catches me, without breaking stride, then moves toward Teddy’s stall. Keys jingle softly, one after the other, until one finally clicks the lock open.
“Two options, Valentina,” he says, eyes sharp. “We ride him out, or we deal with those men and do what needs to be done. Doesn’t matter to me.”
I glance toward the sound of footsteps, familiar voices I’ve heard every year at the fair. Hurting them doesn’t sit right. “Wait—you do know how to ride, right?”
Maksim shrugs. “I was hoping you did.”
“I do.”
“Yes, the fuck you do.”
We share a grin, the air between us charged.
“Help me up,” I say, gripping Teddy’s white mane.
Maksim hoists me easily, then swings up behind me, his chest pressed to my back, breath hot against my ear. “Take me for a ride, beautiful.”
“You don’t have to ask twice.”
Teddy bolts through the gate. Maybe it’s not quite the same kind of speed I’m used to, but God, I’ve missed it—the wind in my hair, the world falling away.
Guilt flickers briefly. I’ve been keeping that part of my life hidden from Maksim, waiting for the right moment. Maybe that moment is now.
“Maxy,” I shout over the wind, “meet me tomorrow. Six p.m. I’m taking you to that place I promised.”
He nods against my shoulder, and I smile, heart pounding from everything we’ve done tonight.
Breaking and entering: check.
Destruction of property: check.
Public indecency: check.
Possible sex tape: check.
Grand larceny: check.
Grand gesture from a broody Russian:definitelycheck.
I couldn’t ask for a better night.
Thirty-Three
MAKSIM
The office smells like fresh paint and drywall. New floors, custom furniture, everything about it feels permanent now, even if I never planned for it to be. But the thought of leaving again, of leaving her behind, feels unfathomable.
The idea should terrify me. Maybe deep down it does. But when I think of her, all I feel is…light. Maybe even hope. And I know I’m well and truly fucked when I start missing her after only a few hours apart. When I catch myself sitting here, scribbling down ways to make her smile while Pavel’s voice runs through intel on the line, numbers, names, routes, things I should be focused on. But she slips in anyway. My girl has a way of rewiring me without trying.
She shouldn’t be under my skin like this. Not when I’ve got missing shipments, crooked middlemen, and a drive full of names belonging to men who think they can disrespect me because I’m new in town. Men who believe I don’t deserve my empire, that I didn’t earn it. Not here. And not the way my father did, or his before him.
Fuck them.
