Page 54 of Savage Vows
Dante leavesme at the edge of the dance floor, the heat of his hand still lingering at my waist. I watch him disappear into the crowd, his jaw tight, his shoulders squared. Part of me wants to believe I was just playing him, keeping close for safety, making nice so he lowers his guard. But that’s not all of it. Not even close.
Because when he looked at me just now, I felt something loosen, something hungry and alive.
Maksim appears, the music shifting bright around us. “May I?” he asks, hand out, polite like always.
I take it. He draws me into the slow turn of the room. For a few beats we move without speaking.
“I’m sorry about not picking up your call,” he says at last, voice low. “I had no idea…” He lets his voice trail off.
“So you knew it was me calling.” I keep my eyes on his.
He almost smiles. “I have my ways.”
“I thought you hated this life,” I say.
He exhales through his nose. “Can we ever get out of it?”
In my head the answer is no. I don’t say it.
“I wouldn’t be in this place if you had just helped me,” I tell him.
He meets my look. “Do you want to get out?” He waits a beat. “Of this marriage.”
I don’t answer. The silence sits between us like a plate we both pretend not to see.
He shifts, lighter again. “You look well,” he says.
“I heard you and Dante are tight,” I say. “He killed that man in the garden. You didn’t do anything.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“What is it then?”
Maksim’s jaw goes tight. “That man was a traitor, Adriana. He’d been selling information—dangerous information—about both our families. He knew the rules and he broke them. He got caught.”
I study Maksim’s face, the tired lines around his eyes, the way he glances toward the corners of the room. He isn’t proud, but he’s not apologizing either.
“I didn’t pull the trigger, but I didn’t stop Dante,” he says, voice low. “If I had, it would have made things worse. There are times when the best I can do is keep things quiet, keep more blood from being spilled.”
I look away, the music too loud.
His words settle in my mind, heavy and ugly. Maksim isn’t lying, but there’s no comfort in the truth. The man in the garden was a traitor. There are rules in this world, and I’m starting to learn they’re not just stories told to keep daughters safe—they’re warnings. They’re threats, and promises too.
We dance another slow turn. Maksim keeps his hand gentle at my waist, steering me past gold and candlelight. I find my voice.
“I never wanted any of this,” I say. “Not this family, not this marriage. I wanted to choose.”
He looks at me, really looks, and for a moment I see the friend I remember. “None of us got to choose, Adi. Some of us just learned how to survive it.”
“Do you regret it?” I ask.
He hesitates. “Every day. But I regret what happens when people run more.”
His honesty stings. I glance at Dante across the room. He’s watching, eyes hard and unreadable.
Maksim’s apology lingers in the space between us. His guilt is so plain I can almost taste it, and I let him hold me a little closer as the music shifts.
“I’m sorry, Adi. I really am. About all of it.”
