Page 55 of The Arrangement

"Take a seat," he says, his tone implying it's more of a command than a suggestion. "We've got a hell of a lot to talk about."

Chapter 29

Tory

Iglare at Aleksey, my spine straightening. "I think I'll stand," I announce, not about to play into his little dominance game.

He laughs, a sound that grates on my nerves. "Seems Maksim hasn't trained you very well. He usually prefers his women a bit more obedient."

The audacity of the man! My temper flares, and I can't hold back. "Yeah? Well, fuck you," I shoot back, refusing to let him see just how much he's getting under my skin.

Aleksey's smirk doesn't waver. "Feisty. I like that. But it won't help you here."

I fold my arms, doing my best to seem unfazed, but inside, I'm boiling. This guy's pushing all my buttons, and we've barely started talking. "What do you want, Aleksey? Why am I here?"

He leans back, his casual demeanor in stark contrast to the tension zipping through me. "Straight to business. I like that, too. You're here, Tory, because of Ned's mess. And whether you like it or not, you're part of cleaning it up."

Part of me wants to keep lashing out, to break through his smug assurance with sharp words. But another part, the part that's whispering caution, reminds me I'm in a precarious position. I'm caught in a web I didn't weave, and anger won't get me out of it. Yet, giving Aleksey the satisfaction of seeing me cower? Not going to happen.

Aleksey doesn't seem offended. If anything, my behavior amuses him further. A thoughtful look crosses his face. “You know, Maksim wasn't always the charmer you see now. Oh no, he had quite the reputation back in the day."

I'm reluctantly curious, despite myself. "What are you talking about?" I ask, even though part of me screams to keep silent, to not give him the satisfaction.

“Let’s just say he’s made an example of more than one man who’s crossed him.” I feel a chill, despite the bravado I'm trying to maintain. Aleksey's eyes lock onto mine, ensuring I grasp the gravity of his tale. "He has a darkness in him, Tory. One he's done a good job hiding from you, it seems."

Aleksey leans back, his tale of Maksim's brutality hanging heavy between us. "You see, Tory, people like us, like Maksim, we're molded by the darkness. It's in our bones."

I try to keep my voice steady. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Trying to freak me out with your stories."

He smirks. "It's not just stories, darling. It's a warning. You think you know Maksim, but there are layers to that man you haven't even begun to peel back."

My skepticism must be evident because he continues, each word dripping with condescension. "Oh, you doubt me? Ask him about the warehouse on Fifth, ask about the fire. See if he tells you the sweet, bedtime version or the truth."

The mention of specific events sends a jolt of unease through me. "Why should I believe anything you say?" I challenge, even as a part of me dreads the answers to the questions Aleksey has planted.

"Because, Tory," he says, a cold hardness in his eyes, "ignorance in our world doesn't grant you safety; it makes you a target. And believe me, being in the dark with a man like Maksim is the last place you want to be."

"You're lying," I say, more out of defiance than conviction.

Aleksey shrugs, an infuriating smirk playing on his lips. "Believe what you want but know this—Maksim Morozov is not the saint you think he is. And you, my dear, are in the middle of a very dangerous game."

His words hang in the air, a threat veiled as advice. I'm left grappling with the uncertainty of it all, wondering how much of the man I care for is the person Aleksey describes, and how much is the one I've come to know.

Aleksey doesn't miss a beat, his voice smooth as he shifts gears. "I didn't bring you here just to give you a fright, Tory. I'm offering you a deal."

"A deal?" My voice is skeptical, incredulous at the turn this conversation is taking.

He nods, a predator's grin spreading across his face. "There's a storm coming to this city. A shakeup. And when the dust settles, I'll be the one standing tall. Maksim, on the other hand..." He lets the thought hang, unfinished but clear.

"And what? You want me to... what, exactly?" I'm struggling to keep up, to mask the rising horror at his implication.

"I want you, Tory. No point in dressing it up. You're smart, beautiful, and, let's face it, wasted on Maksim. This is your chance to align with the winner. With me." He leans closer, his gaze locking onto mine. "Think about it. You could be my queen. My favorite pet. Doesn't that sound enticing?"

The revulsion that surges through me is almost palpable. "Be your pet?" The word tastes foul, and I can barely contain the disgust. "You think I'd ever choose that? Choose you?"

Aleksey laughs, a sound devoid of humor. "Oh, gorgeous, it's not about choice. It's about survival. And trust me, in the war that's coming, you'll want to be on the winning side."

His assurance, his arrogance, it's all designed to intimidate, to coerce. But it only fuels my resolve, my disdain for the man before me.

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