Page 43 of Fatal Bonds

“Sorry,gospodin. He insisted it’s urgent.”

The strain in Genrikh’s tone makes my stomach sink. I have a feeling I know who the unexpected guest must be—and if I’m right, he’s here to talk about his man spotting Lindsey on the street this morning.

“Get dressed,” I mutter, releasing her reluctantly.

18

LINDSEY

My heart hammers against my ribs as I drag an oversized sweater over my head and pull on some pants. Maks looks tense, his expression dark and strained as he combs his hair back from his face, his attention focused on the door as I rush to the bathroom sink to quickly splash water on my face. He’s not happy, and from his curt confirmation that we’ll be right out, I have a feeling what’s coming won’t be good for me. Still, he waits until I’m ready, then opens the French doors of his bedroom, revealing one of the men I slipped past in the lobby early this morning.

“Lucian’s here. He wants to speak with you—both of you.” The man’s eyes flick quickly in my direction before he schools them on Maks’s face.

Maks nods, his lips pressing into a flat line as he places a hand on the small of my back and guides me into the hallway. A shiver ripples down my spine from the gentle but commanding touch.

“Don’t speak unless you’re asked a direct question,” Maks says, his voice so low, I can barely make out the words. “I’ll handle this.”

Biting my lip, I wrap my arms around my waist and nod.

A handful of men stand in the living room as we enter, all tall and on the slender side, dressed in fine suits with their dark hair styled to perfection and their faces clean shaven. Their similar olive complexions and Roman noses make me confident they’re Italian before they even open their mouths. My heart skips a beat when I recognized the hawk-eyed one I ran from on the street this morning. He’s watching me with that same unblinking gaze, his golden eyes bright and observant. But he’s not the one the men seem to orbit around—he’s not the man in charge.

Lucian, I gather, is the tallest of the bunch, with striking hazel eyes and dark hair that looks intentionally haphazard. His features are sharp and powerful, naturally severe, and his gaze is scrutinizing as he watches me closely, his expression giving nothing away. “It’s the second time this young woman appears to have risen from the grave,” he observes dryly, his eyes shifting to Maks.

His lightly accented voice is smooth, calm even, and ice creeps into my veins as frightening memories come flooding back to me—memories of my last night at the Dungeon, tiptoeing down an empty hallway, stumbling upon a murmured conversation behind closed doors. This is, without a doubt, the man Maks is plotting to murder Emiliano Costanzo with, and while I have no interest in protecting the lecherous old creep who propositioned me, meeting the man who intends to betray him still terrifies me. I imagine it would take a considerable amount of apathy to look a man in the eyes when you know you’re going to kill him and convincingly pretend otherwise. Maks’s fury I can understand, his desire to destroy Emiliano after what he did. That I can relate to, even if I could never take a man’s life.But Lucian?I get the sense that he would just as willingly cut my throat as he would his boss’s if it got him what he wants.

“I said I would deal with her. I didn’t say I would kill her,” Maks states, his tone equally cool and professional.

“And yet, my man spotted her wandering down the street, half-naked, just this morning. In my world, that’s notdealingwith it. From where I stand, you seem to have no control of her at all.”

Heavy silence settles over the room. I can taste the tension in the air, the unspoken question as Maks’s men hover around him, their hands subtly twitching closer to their weapons. The Italians catch each almost imperceptible movement, their expressions rigid as the suspense grows.

“You’re right,” Maks concedes. “What happened this morning was not intentional. But I assure you, it won’t happen again.” His hands shift into an open gesture as he lifts them, palm up.

It seems to be a silent signal to his men, who straighten ever so slightly, their hands relaxing into a less defensive posture. But they hold their position around him, a silent army prepared to obey their leader’s slightest command.

Lucian takes note of the shifting energy, his sharp eyes silently assessing the tension, weighing the outcomes based on his next move. “Hey, I get it,” he says, his tone lightening as his eyes slide languorously down my body. “She’s young, beautiful—she looks perfectly harmless. But she’s also a problem, so if you can’t handle the situation, then you need to hand her over. I’ve been more than reasonable, given you plenty of chances, but now it’s time to take care of matters—before something happens that can’t be undone.”

The hint of fire in his eyes dampens as his face turns cold, and the look he gives Maks says the games are over. He’s done messing around. Maks is frighteningly still beside me as tension rolls off him in waves. I put his alliance in jeopardy by slipping out this morning, and while I’m hurt by how he treated me in the bedroom over it, for the first time, I realize just how far I must have crossed the line. He’s working with a man who’s just as dangerous as he is, just as capable of violence—maybe even more so because Lucian has a lot more to lose that Maks does in all this.

A shiver races down my spine as I realize Maks might actually hand me over for running again. He was that mad, and now I see why. Everything he’s worked so hard for—the revenge for Kira he’s so close to finally achieving—might come crumbling down around him if he doesn’t give Lucian what he wants. I’ve backed Maks into a corner, and right now, I’m not at all confident that he’s on my side. I’m not his priority. I’m not the niece he so clearly adores and would do anything to defend. I’m just the woman he wanted to get out of his system, and judging by what’s happened, we might have reached that point.

The silence stretches until it feels like the air itself might shatter. I can’t bring myself to take a breath.

Lucian sighs, taking a single step toward me, his expression surprisingly compassionate as he continues to look at Maks. “I’ll do it quickly. She won’t feel any pain,” he promises.

The hairs raise along the back of my neck as he talks about me as if I’m not even in the room—like I can’t understand the words he’s saying. My lips part, an objection halfway out of my mouth before I remember that Maks told me to keep my mouth shut.

“She won’t say anything,” Maks states, his voice flat and gruff.

“Maybe you’re right. But maybe you’re not, and I’m not willing to stake my life on that uncertainty,” Lucian says casually. “Look, I trust you, Maks—as much as men in our world are capable of that. You’ve earned your reputation for standing behind your word, which is why I’m willing to do business with you. To people who know me, that’s high praise. But I don’t know this girl, and so far, she’s given me no reason to believe that she’ll keep your secrets—let alone mine.”

“If I married her—that would be adequate proof that she’s loyal to me. As my wife, she wouldn’t leave my side. I’ll keep a constant eye on her until she earns that trust.”

The suggestion hits me harder than a bolt of lightning, and the world lurches dangerously around me as the oxygen evaporates from my lungs.He can’t be serious, right?I glance up at Maks beside me, looking at his face as if I’m seeing him for the first time. He’s ignoring me completely, his gaze locked on Lucian, but the set of his jaw would indicate he’s not joking in the slightest.

The Italian cocks his head, his eyes lighting with amusement, and a slow smile curls the corners of his mouth as his gaze travels casually between us. “You’d marry her to keep her alive?” His question holds an edge of disbelief—like he can’t fathom what it is about me that would make Maks go to such lengths.

Frankly, I’m just as baffled when he’s the one who talked aboutgetting me out of his systemso he can move on.

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