Page 40 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
This man makes no sense. How can the monster who murdered someone in front of me and forced me to marry him be the sameman who was so tender with my ankle, cooked me dinner, and now sits before me telling me my reactions are valid?
He’s like a coin. Today’s side is gentle Maxim, apparently.
“You’re saying that like you’re not responsible for the upheaval of my life.”
“I’m responsible,” he says. “I know that. But you’re safe and alive.”
“Until I say the wrong thing.”
He lifts his glass and drinks once more. “Is there no part of you enjoying any of this? The food? The atmosphere? The new apartment?”
“I miss my apartment. And my car. What happened with that, by the way?”
Maxim sets his glass down. “Your car was repaired and delivered back to your apartment.”
“But not to me.”
“You don’t need it.”
“What if I want it?”
“Do you?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. It is kind of nice being driven around.” Admitting it feels like I’m saying I like being held hostage, but Maxim’s expression doesn’t change. “And the new apartment’s nice. It’s big.”
Maxim nods. “I like space.”
“Then you’ll hate this weekend because my mom wants us to help her decorate the house.”
“I have no problem with that.”
“They want to get to know you. All of you.”
Maxim shakes his head. “Again, I have no problem with that. Which reminds me.” His head dips, and he rummages in his pocket, then he pulls out a small black box and sets it on the table in front of me. “Here.”
I lower my fork. “What’s that?”
“Open it.”
The box is soft, black velvet and almost warm against my palm. Inside, resting on a white silk cushion, sits a ring. It’s white gold, with seemingly liquid amber gold weaving across the top of the ring in the shape of a treble clef. In between the curls rest several diamonds and red jewels.
“Since music is important to you, I thought you would like it. A replacement for the other ring.”
It’s beautiful. More than that, it’sthoughtful. He chose a ring that speaks to me as a person and I can’t take my eyes off it. No one in my life has ever given me such a lavish or personal gift, and it almost hurts that this has to come from him. He stands slowly and moves around the table, then he kneels next to me. Despite his bulk, the usual intimidating aura from his muscular size is nonexistent and I struggle to keep my rising emotions in check.
“May I?”
I nod silently.
Maxim takes my hand and gently slides the gold band from my ring finger, then he slides the new ring into place. It nestles perfectly against my knuckle and the gems dazzle like a thousand stars have fallen to earth just to rest in my hand. It’s lighter than the previous ring which Maxim pockets.
“Do you like it?”
I want to tell him yes. The urge sits heavily on the tip of my tongue because I more than like it. I love it. It’s absolutely beautiful, but the words don’t come. Our eyes meet and there’s something puppyish about the hope flickering in his.
So I nod.
And he smiles.
