That voice. I know that voice.
The bag comes off, and I'm looking up at Maksim.
He's alive.
He'salive.
The sob that tears out of me is ugly and desperate. I throw myself at him. He catches me despite the obvious pain it causes him. His shoulder is bandaged—poorly. There is blood seeping through. He moves like his ribs hurt.
"You're alive." I can't stop saying it. "You're alive. Roman said—he told me he killed you. That you were dead. I didn’t believe it. I felt you.”
"I know. I know." His arms tighten around me, and I feel him shaking too. "I'm okay. I'm here."
I pull back to look at him properly. He's pale, fever-bright eyes, moving carefully like everything hurts. There's dried blood in his hair and bruises blooming across his face.
"You're not okay." I touch his bandaged shoulder gently. "You need medical attention. This is infected—"
"Probably." His smile is grim. "But there's not much we can do about that right now. And if I’m being practical, it doesn’t matter."
I look around for the first time, taking in our surroundings. A cell. Small, concrete, with a single dim bulb. One thin mat on the floor. A bucket in the corner. I know what he’s saying. Why fight an infection when we were going to be killed anyway.
"How long have you been here?"
"Since he shot me. Maybe a day? Two? Hard to tell without windows." He leans back against the wall, wincing. "They're keeping me alive for leverage. In case he needs to threaten you or Anya with my death."
"Anya." The name makes my throat tight. "Roman said—he said he's marrying her instead of me. Next week."
"I know." Maksim's jaw clenches. "The guards made sure to tell me. Said she's more 'manageable' than you."
"We have to stop it." I'm desperate now. "Maksim, we have to get out of here. Warn her. Get her away before—"
"Before what?" His voice is gentle but firm. "Kira, look around. We're locked in a cell. Guarded. You heard them—we've got until morning. Then it's over."
"Over meaning what?"
"Meaning Roman's going to kill us." He says it flatly. "Can't have loose ends. Once he's secured his position through Anya, we become too dangerous to keep alive."
The words should terrify me. Instead, I feel oddly calm. Maybe I've moved past fear into acceptance.
"I'm sorry." Maksim's voice breaks through my thoughts. "For everything. For not believing you. For destroying your organization. For participating in the arrangements that put Anya in danger."
"You believe me now." It's not a question. I can see it in his eyes. "About not betraying you."
"Yes." He looks at me directly. "Viktor came to see me. Told me everything. Your father took money from Roman—gave him information about my schedule, security. But you didn't know. Never knew."
The confirmation of my innocence should feel like victory. Instead, it just feels sad. It all feels so pointless. So much sadness.
If only he would have trusted me enough to believe what I said.
"Roman orchestrated all of it," I say quietly. "Didn't he? Not just the kidnapping. Everything."
"Everything." Maksim nods. "He paid your father. Manufactured the evidence. Used me as a weapon to destroy you. Played us both."
"And we let him." I lean my head on his good shoulder, careful of his injury.
"I was certain it was you." His voice is raw with guilt. "Six years, Kira. I spent six years in hell, and the only thing that kept me alive was the promise of making you pay. And you were innocent the whole time."
"I know." I thread my fingers through his.
