Page 114 of Savage Vows
“Where did Luka come in?”
“I met him courtesy of Julianne. That boy had a taste for expensive scotch, so sometimes he would come over without telling his precious girlfriend, and I gave him exactly what he needed, with a taste for more.”
His eyes glint. “The girls…they found me charming. I knew just what to say, how to play the part. But I couldn’t risk being seen leaving with them. So I used Luka.”
My pulse spikes. “You used him.”
“It was perfect, really,” he says, circling slightly, the gun never leaving his hand. “He was desperate, needed the money, and the girls already trusted him. I kept my hands clean, and he thought he was doing harmless pickups. But it was always a double-edged sword. I wanted Julianne from the start. Couldn’t stand that Luka had her. The plan was always to pin it all on him.”
He steps closer. I can smell the cologne beneath the rot.
“He had Julianne,” he says, bitterness lacing every word. “And I couldn’t stand it. I wanted her—had from the moment I saw her. So I decided to pin everything on him. Make him the monster. I even made sure the CCTV footage from Portello was tampered just enough…just enough for you to suspect him. I knew you’d dig.”
“You sick bastard,” I whisper.
“But he got greedy,” Maksim continues, voice colder now. “Started asking too many questions. Wanted a bigger cut. So I showed him the pictures.”
My stomach flips.
“Pictures I took of his precious virginal girlfriend while she was with me. Oh, the look on his face when he realized she wasn’t so innocent anymore.” Maksim laughs, the sound slicing into me. “I never could get enough of her.”
I can’t breathe.
“What?” Maksim sneers, his lip curling as he steps even closer, the gun still steady in his grip. “You thought I liked you?”
My stomach turns, but I stand my ground.
“You thought I wanted you?” he continues, his voice thick with disgust. “Don’t flatter yourself. How could anyone like your pathetic self?”
The words hit harder than they should.
I try to stay strong, to breathe through the pounding in my chest, but it’s like he’s stripping me bare with every word. My throat tightens. The tears come, unbidden and hot, blurring my vision. I blink them back furiously, refusing to let him see me fall apart.
But he sees anyway. And he smiles.
“Dante doesn’t love you,” he adds quietly, like it’s the final nail. “He never did. You’re a convenience. A smoke screen. And when he’s done pretending, you’ll be forgotten like the rest.”
I gasp, the tears slipping free. But I still don’t move.
I step sideways, keeping his focus on me, praying Samie stays silent behind my legs.
A dull crack comes from the trees behind Maksim. He flicks the pistol toward the sound, suspicious, then swings it back to my chest. My pulse pounds so fast it feels like my ribs might crack.
“You won’t leave with her,” I repeat, stepping sideways, drawing his attention.
“You won’t leave at all,” he answers. The gun trembles—just a fraction—like he’s choosing which of us to shoot first.
Movement catches my eye at the tree line. Dante emerges from the shadows, soaked and silent, pistol raised. His gaze finds mine. He lifts a finger to his lips, a single command for silence. My heart lurches. I stare straight at Maksim, forcing myself not to give Dante away.
Maksim turns his head, suspicious. I need seconds. Anything. I pick up a fist-sized rock from the mud and hurl it past Maksim’s shoulder into the darkness. The stone crashes through wet brush. Maksim jerks, eyes following the noise, gun swinging wide.
“Over there.” I gasp, pretending panic. “I saw something.”
He shifts his weight, just enough. Dante’s shot cracks through the rain, catching Maksim in the shoulder. Blood spatters the moss. Maksim staggers, snarling. “Bitch,” he spits, whipping the barrel toward Dante.
Dante fires again but Maksim lunges aside. The bullet grazes his ribs instead of finishing him. He dives behind a stump and returns fire. Bark explodes inches from Dante’s face. Dante rolls to cover, mud streaking his coat, then charges. The two men collide at the clearing’s edge, guns clattering to the ground.
I drag Samie back, heart in my throat. Rain pounds the leaves, drowning their shouts, their fists. Maksim’s elbow slams into Dante’s jaw, knocking him to one knee. He yanks a knife from his boot, blade glinting.
