Page 29 of Embrace of the Russian Tiger

He was right. I didn’t hate him. I hated what he had done, the lies, the manipulation. But hate was not the word for what I felt toward him.

Maxim leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shockwave through my body. "You don’t hate me, Anna. You’re angry, confused, but you don’t hate me. You’re drawn to me."

His words wrapped around me, pulling me in deeper, and I was powerless to resist. Every inch of me was screaming for him, wanting him, needing him. The truth of my past, the danger surrounding us—it all faded away in that moment, leaving only the two of us.

And then, without another word, his lips were on mine.

The kiss was intense, consuming, like he was claiming me, marking me as his. But there was more to it than that. Beneath the hunger, beneath the need, there was something else. Something vulnerable. Something real.

I kissed him back, my hands gripping his shirt as I pressed myself closer to him. Every nerve in my body was on fire, my heart pounding as I lost myself in the moment. I didn’t care about the consequences, didn’t care about the lies or the danger or the questions still unanswered. All I cared about was him.

Maxim.

The man who had controlled me, manipulated me, protected me.

The man I couldn’t walk away from, no matter how hard I tried.

And as the kiss deepened, I realized that I didn’t want to walk away.

Not anymore.

CHAPTER 14

Days passed after I confronted Maxim. I hated it.

I hated that I couldn’t stop thinking about him, that I couldn’t control the way my body reacted when he was near. I hated that, even after everything—after the lies, the manipulation, the secrets—I still found myself wanting him.

The mansion was quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that felt oppressive, like the stillness before a storm. I had been wandering the halls aimlessly, trying to clear my head, but my thoughts kept circling back to him. Always him. It was like I couldn’t escape it, no matter how hard I tried.

As I turned the corner into the hallway leading to his office, I froze. The door was cracked open slightly, just enough for me to hear the soft murmur of his voice. He wasn’t speaking in his usual sharp, commanding tone. There was something softer, almost... pained about it. My heart skipped a beat, and before I knew what I was doing, I was inching closer, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

I peeked through the door, careful not to make a sound, and my breath caught in my throat.

Maxim was sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed, his hand massaging his temples as if he were trying to ease some deep, internal pain. His expression, usually so cold and unreadable, was tight with something I hadn’t seen before. Vulnerability.

And then he spoke, barely above a whisper, but it was enough to send a chill down my spine. “Katya...”

His sister.

My heart clenched as I watched him. I had never seen him like this, so raw, so exposed. It was like the weight of the world was crushing him, and for the first time, he wasn’t hiding it.

He didn’t know I was there; didn’t know I was watching him. And in that moment, I realized that there was so much more to him than the cold, ruthless man I had seen. There was pain there, deep pain, and it called to something inside me, something I didn’t want to acknowledge.

I should have walked away. I should have left him to his thoughts, left him to his darkness. But instead, I pushed the door open wider, stepping into the room.

He tensed the moment he heard me, his eyes snapping open, his body going rigid as he turned to face me. For a second, I saw the vulnerability in his eyes, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that familiar mask of cold indifference.

“What are you doing here, Anna?” he asked, his voice hard, but I could hear the strain beneath it. He was trying to keep control, trying to shut me out.

“I was walking,” I said quietly, taking a few steps closer. “I heard you.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything. He just watched me, his gaze sharp, calculating, as if he were trying to decide how much to let me see.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” I whispered, stepping closer still. My heart was pounding in my chest, a wild rhythm that matched the intensity of the air between us.

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he was going to shut me down, push me away like he always did. But then something shifted in his eyes, something that made my breath catch.

“You think you know me, Anna?” he asked, his voice low, dangerous. “You think you’ve seen the real me?”

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