Page 57 of Fatal Bonds

“I mean,no, but is there a business in Chicago youdon’town?”

He gives another low chuckle, and tingling anticipation rushes up my spine. Something about dinner tonight makes me think this could have been the direction our relationship went if I hadn’t stumbled down the wrong hallway at the Dungeon that night—if instead, I’d bumped into Maks again in the VIP section and taken him up on that drink. It’s strange to think how different things could have been between us, and I wonder where things might have gone if I’d never found out about Don Costanzo or Lucian or the dark underbelly of Maks’s world.

“Yes, there are plenty of places I don’t own,” he says, “but I thought you might enjoy a Michelin star restaurant for your final meal in Chicago, and most of them, you have to book months ahead.”

Eyes wide, I look around the room with fresh eyes. “That’s—really thoughtful,” I say, turning back to him. “Thank you.”

“If I’m being honest, it’s just as much for me. I never realized I could get so much enjoyment out of feeding someone good food before I met you.”

There’s that playful light in his eyes again, and it makes my stomach flutter. “So, what’s good here?” I ask, the question sounding embarrassingly breathless as I look down at the single-page menu to distract myself.

“All of it. Pick what sounds best, unless you’d like to try one of each.”

Humor laces his tone, and when I bite my lip, glancing up at him apologetically from beneath my lashes, he actually laughs. It’s probably more than I can eat, but I am famished after spending my morning intermittently throwing up.And when am I ever going to get an offer like that again?In aMichelin-ranked restaurantno less.

“Are we ready to order?” our server asks, his crisp formal wear pressed to perfection and his blond hair slicked back from his clean shaven face.

“We’ll take one of everything on the menu. And a bottle of the 1992 Screaming Eagle cabernet sauvignon.” Maks takes my menu and passes them both to the server as I do my best to keep my eyes inside my head.

“Excellent choice, sir,” the server says with a slight bow before he turns to go.

“Maks, you can’t be serious,” I hiss. I didn’t actually think he would do it.

He lifts his eyebrows. “Why not? It only seems fair when I’m the reason your life’s been turned on its head.”

Heat climbs up my neck, and I take my napkin out the wine glass holding it, smoothing it across my lap to give my hands a job. “Do you ever think about the night we met?” I blurt the words before I realize that’s what I’m going to do, and the warmth in my cheeks intensifies as I peek up at Maks for his reaction.

“About the woman who snuck into the VIP section of my club and tried to buy shots of house tequila?” he asks, his expression teasing. “Or the way you turned me down?”

A surprised laugh bursts from me, and I shake my head. “I only turned you down because girls know better than to just accept drinks from strangers at a club.” A bold desire to say something honest wells up inside me, and I toy with my water glass as I admit, “But I did regret it after—walking away. I went back multiple times hoping I would run into you again.”

Electricity crackles across the space between us, and I can feel the heat of Maks’s gaze before I look up to see it.

“I looked for you,” he says, his voice low and instantly more serious. “At the Dungeon. I watched for you whenever I was there.”

“I had a really different perception of you back then,” I confess.

Maks tilts his head, his expression curious, but before he can ask, our server returns with the bottle of wine that probably costs more than I could earn in a year. Popping the cork, he pours a taste for Maks, who indicates his approval, and before I can object, the server’s pouring me a glass of wine. It feels like a terrible waste not to drink it, but I don’t want to risk it either, and turning it down now might make Maks suspicious.

“What did you think of me when we met?” he asks as soon as our server walks away.

“That you were charming, likely a womanizer—definitely too old for me—and dangerous.”

He raises his eyebrows as if mildly impressed. “Dangerous how?”

I shrug one shoulder and swirl the crimson liquid in my wine glass. “You seemed like someone women fall for.”

Silence stretches between us, and after a pause, Maks takes a drink of his wine. “And now?”

I give a breathy laugh and mirror his motion, raising the glass to my lips to make it look like I’m sipping before setting it back down. Anxiety quivers in my stomach, and I can taste the quality of the bottle just from the reminisce of alcohol that lingers on my lips.

“Now I have a better understanding of what makes you so dangerous,” I say.

Maks nods, his eyes shockingly compassionate, and he takes another generous drink of wine. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

“I’m not.” I’m surprised that I mean it. But if things hadn’t turned out the way they did, I doubt I ever would have known the real Maks, and even if it’s been painful at times, I feel privileged to know him like I do. He might not be perfect, but he’s a better man than I ever would have given him credit for. “We’ve been through a lot together, and I feel like I’m coming out a stronger person on the other side.”

“I hope you know that, what I did—I did it to keep you safe, even if it didn’t always feel that way,” he says, looking torn. “And I hope, in some small way, I managed to earn your trust.”

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