I study him. “You say that like it disgusts you.”
“It does.”
“Because of tonight?”
He gives a short shake of his head. “Because children don’t stay children in this life. They inherit wars they didn’t start. Debts that aren’t theirs. They get used for leverage. They grow up in the middle of shit like the Armenian mess.”
I go quiet for a beat. “That happened before I was old enough to understand any of it. I just know Gabriel and Arsen had ties.”
His expression turns flat. Closed. “It’s my fault that war happened at all.”
I blink. “How?”
A pause. Then, bluntly, “Angelo and I started that fire.”
My whole body stills. “What?”
“We didn’t know Arsen and Vartan were going to be there. We were trying to get trafficked girls out of that warehouse.”
My stomach drops. “You killed Vartan?”
His jaw shifts. “Vartan was dead before we even got there.”
That lands hard. A strange, cold puzzle piece sliding into place.
If Vartan was already dead, then who—
I don’t say it.
Maksim stares at the ceiling like he can still see flames there. “When I saw Arsen, I told Angelo to go. Then I dragged his ass out.”
He lets out a humorless breath. “Should’ve left him there.”
His face is hard, but there’s something tortured underneath it. Something cold.
“If I’d known what that fucker would do after—what he’d come after,whohe’d come after, I would’ve let him burn.”
My hand slides over his shoulder, thumb pressing into the hard knot of muscle there.
“For a second there you almost sounded human.”
He snorts.
I keep rubbing slow circles into his skin. “Didn’t know there was a decent man buried under all this asshole.”
He turns his head, one brow lifting. “Buried deep.”
“Clearly.”
His mouth twitches. “I’m good when it suits me.”
I hum. “That so?”
“Good to you.”
“Debatable.”
His hand slides into my hair, tipping my head back just enough. “Yet you still come in my bed.”
