Page 76 of Surrender: XXX Maxim
Chapter Twenty
The first time I came to this place in Maxim’s shadow, I wore the clothing of a doll—the twin to the black velvet ensemble he originally intended for me to wear to this meeting. The simple dress had obscured my shape, its primary purpose being to convey the ownership of the man beside me.
Nothing less, nothing more.
Now, a swath of red silk boldly displays the shape of my body while leaving little to the imagination. Cut dangerously short, it’s something the old Francesca might have pined over from the window of a boutique she could only dream of shopping in. The kind of outfit I would have assumed was far too good for me back then. Too classy. Too bold.
Maxim wanted me to choose a dress fit for his kitten. For whatever reason,thisensemble fits that bill.
In approval, Maxim’s fingers trace my lower back, exploring every contour exposed by the tight fabric. Even he looks different as we exit the car, flanked by his security. Instead of a suit, he wears a loose-fitting white shirt and black slacks that enhance his bulk more than a jacket and tie ever could. It’s a stark contrast to the professional attire of his guards as they draw up behind him.
To my surprise, he waves them off. “Stay here.”
Tomas and his partner share a questioning look but remain near the car rather than follow. “As you wish, sir. His guards weren’t expecting us,” Tomas adds, glancing at a security booth guarding the entrance to the property. “If you wanted to come unannounced, I would assume you have a minute or two before they alert him. They knew better than to deny you entrance outright, at least.”
“Be ready,” Maxim warns as he cranes his neck, observing our destination. Before us looms a sprawling mansion in Black Briar Hills—a part of the city reserved for politicians, or those with enough money to buy them. It towers above, casting a shadow that diminishes even the sun fighting through a layer of morning cloud cover.
And I can’t lie and pretend that I’m not fucking trembling inside, fighting back the memories of my first visit. This is the place where I experienced the cruelty of Maxim’s family firsthand—and my first introduction to his uncle Sevastyn.
“Areyouready?” Maxim wonders as if reading my mind. He captures my hand, lacing our fingers together.
Am I? Something won’t let me answer. Instead, I feed off the strength in his touch and shift my focus to him. The more I take in the rigid set of his jaw, the more I suspect the question wasn’t directed at me. Isheready?
The determined tilt of his head gives me a clue. So does the cold, hard intensity of his gaze. Gone is that unnerving distance.
He’s more than ready.
“Come.” He pulls me forward, and this time, we don’t wait for a timid maid to open the door. He barges inside and heads to the heart of the house, every step bold and assured. It’s as dark within as I remember, adorned with a chilling décor devoid of any warmth.
But Anatoli isn’t in his study today.
Instead—as if smelling him out like a predator—Maxim drags me past that room and into another, wider space. A long dining table dominates the center of it. At its head sits an older man with white-blond hair. In one hand, he brandishes a knife while a maid sets a plate of steaming food before him.
Spotting Maxim, the woman jumps spilling food onto the table’s polished surface. “M-Mr. Koslov—”
“Leave,” Maxim tells her as he advances. To his grandfather, he inclines his head. “You’ve summoned me, so here I am.”
“Maximov?” Red spots appear over Anatoli’s cheeks as he snaps his fingers. At the silent command, his maid struggles to scrape up the fallen bits of egg and bacon with her bare hands. She fails, and after another pointed look from Maxim, she scurries from the room, leaving the mess behind.
Anatoli scowls, barely noticing her absence. “You dare come here unannounced—”
“I’m not here on your behalf,” Maxim says over him. To my shock, he bows his head in reverence, and the air sticks in my lungs. I back up instinctively, ripping my hand from his.It was a trap all along,Dima’s disembodied voice taunts me.Did you really believe he would choose you?
But as Maxim draws himself back to his full height, his gaze is honed, radiating the intensity of a creature who is anything but a pawn. Snippets of his past still strangle his expression like shackles, but I can sense the effort it takes for him to resist their pull.
And he does.
“I am here for your blessing,” he says. “As well as to offer my condolences on the loss of Sevastyn.”
“Loss?” His grandfather echoes, his black eyes emotionless. Watching him, I realize that he has no clue as to the fate of his son. “Explain.”
“I apologize for not making myself clearer to you before,” Maxim adds. “But now, there can be no mistake…” He reaches into his pocket and tosses a small, metal object onto the table. It bounces over the polished wood, nearly landing onto Anatoli’s plate.
Frowning, the older man snatches it in his fist, holding it to the light. Slowly, recognition dawns over his features, and shock rapidly displaces the disgust.
“It is Sevastyn’s, yes,” Maxim confirms, and I finally recognize the object for what it is. A ring. Silver and ornate, he must have taken it from his uncle’s body. If I squint, I swear I can see remnants of scarlet dried over the gleaming surface. “I return it to you, along with a warning. I am no longer yours to command.”
“And if I don’t grant you such a foolish request?” Anatoli counters.
