Page 23 of Secret Bratva Twins

She walked my coffee to me. “How about I show you something to do after you finish your coffee?”

I nodded. “Sure. Thank you for the coffee.” I wrapped my hand around the cup, savoring the heat seeping into my skin. I took a sip of my coffee and groaned. “It tastes nice.”

Ms. Popov waved dismissively. “Don’t flatter me, it’s just black coffee.”

I took another sip of my coffee, my mind buzzing with questions I didn't dare voice aloud. Finally, unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I set the mug down and cleared my throat.

“Ms. Popov,” I began tentatively, “has Maxim ever... had a girlfriend? Or brought a woman here before?”

Not that I would be jealous if he had. We broke up when he abandoned me six years ago, and I was certain he’d dated a lot of women ever since.

Ms. Popov paused, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered my question. “No, dear,” she replied after a moment. “Maxim has always been very private about his personal life. He's never brought anyone here before. You're actually the first woman I've noticed him taking such an interest in.”

My heart skipped a beat at Ms. Popov's words. I had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed sent a rush of warmth through my veins. I quickly masked my reaction with a casual nod.

“I see,” I said, feigning nonchalance.

“You’re asking because you’re interested in him.” She folded her arms and peered at me. “Am I correct?”

She was, but I wasn’t about to admit that. “No. Just curious, that's all.”

Ms. Popov gave me a knowing smile. “If you say so,” she said without an ounce of conviction in her tone. She didn’t try to hide that she didn’t believe me. If I may offer a word of advice, don't underestimate Maxim when it comes to his feelings. He may seem closed off, but he also has a heart and wants to be loved, too.”

It seemed everyone else around him knew him enough to tell me he wasn’t some kind of monster, everyone except me. If they knew that what we shared wasn’t just love and that we had proof of that love, I wondered what they would think then.

Would they expect me to forgive him just because we had kids together?

Too tired to argue, I nodded, taking in Ms. Popov's words. It wasn’t news, actually; I had already learned that Maxim was full of surprises. For example, he told me he loved me and then abandoned me. He may or may not have been my mother’s murderer.

Shit. I’d even started to doubt he killed her.

After finishing my coffee, I thanked Ms. Popov and followed her as she led me through the expansive mansion.

Eventually, we arrived at a set of grand double doors, and Ms. Popov pushed them open to reveal a sight that left me utterly speechless. Before me stretched a vast, floor-to-ceiling library, shelves packed with books of every shape and size. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and leather bindings, and the room seemed to pulse with the energy of untold stories waiting to be discovered.

“Wow,” I murmured, taking in the sight before me. “I had no idea Maxim was... into books.”

Ms. Popov chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, my dear, Maxim's love for literature runs deep. He may not seem like the type, but he's always had a passion for reading. This library is his sanctuary—a place where he can escape from the chaos of the outside world and lose himself in the pages of a good book.”

“I never would've guessed,” I admitted, scanning the shelves in awe. “He always struck me as more of a... man of action, you know?”

But I remembered once he did mention a hobby and how he’d love to share it with me someday. So, this was what he meant: a library.

I picked out a book and flipped through it. It was an epic fantasy novel, so thick I could barely hold it in one hand. How much of this had he read?

Ms. Popov nodded, a smile playing on her lips. "Appearances can be deceiving, like I told you. I think it’s time you get to know him for who he really is.”

Get to know him. Was there even a chance of that? I sighed. “Thanks for showing me this, Ms. Popov.”

“You’re welcome any time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some things to do.”

After she left the library, I picked out a few romance novels with intriguing synopses and nestled on the three-sitter couch in front of the window.

I spent most of the morning and afternoon reading. When evening came, I returned to my room and took a shower. I was hungry but couldn’t bear to eat alone at that long table, so I remained in my room.

There was a light knock on my door.

“Come in!”

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