Page 73 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
“And you don’t?”
He shakes his head and snow crunches nicely under our feet. “No. Because once you start killing those who don’t deserve it to threaten those who do, you invite in those assholes who don’t fear death. Then you have nothing to hold over them. A threat is a delicate thing and only works if someone has something to lose. In my world, it’s hard to care and harder to put pressure on that care. But death? You feel it once and it starts to lose its effect.”
“So, why does he do it? Your Dad?”
“He’s from a time when dying was the scariest thing that could happen. But the world is shittier now. Death, for a lot of people, no longer feels like the worst thing. For many, it’s an escape.”
“That’s so sad.” I lean into him, cradling his hand in both of mine.
“This world is sad. So I try new things. Give people a little hope and they’ll be more loyal than a threat to their family.”
“Threatening their family, hmm?” I gaze up at him. “Where have I heard that before?”
“I had a role to play,” Maxim replies. “I’m sorry. For people outside this world, I suppose the old school threats still work because it is the worst thing that can happen.”
“It is,” I agree. With no stake in this world, Maxim controls. The only thing of worth I have is my parents. And now him, to an extent, and the baby growing inside me. All of them fall under the family umbrella and would make me cave.
“Enough of that, though,” Maxim says. “Tell me about your rehearsal.”
“Oh! It was short, actually. He wanted me to play a few specific songs, which was fine, and he wanted my guarantee that I would be there and not cancel. I told him the money was far too good to cancel, and then he got a call and things were over.”
“Does that happen a lot?” Maxim asks, his breathing becoming less tense. “People want to see you beforehand?”
“Only with private bookings. Everywhere else I've worked relies on word of mouth, and I have a good reputation. Hotels will book me without hesitation if I fit their vibe for that year. But it depends. Some years are better than others.”
“And this is what you want to do with your life?”
“Actually…” I hesitate briefly. “Uhm… I was actually thinking of leaving New York. Signing on for a cruise or something. They pay well, and I’d get to travel and escape this place.”
“You want to escape?”
It sounds silly now and my cheeks warm. “Before… all this, I felt stuck. My mom was always on my case, signing me up for things or volunteering me without letting me know and then getting pissed when I didn’t show. My dad would have my back, but often, he’d also pull the‘Youonlygetone mother’card as if I were letting him down. I felt… smothered.”
“Having a cop for a father must be interesting.”
“Are you digging for dirt?” I tease softly.
“Maybe. Are you going to give it to me?” He meets my eyes with a light smirk. Walking through the park, we approach the exit, and a car pulls up with Stu in the driver’s seat.
“My dad was distant and strict growing up. He became adadafter retiring early due to an injury. That and I think a heart attack scare from my mom finally put things into perspective for him.”
“What did he work on?”
“He never talked about that. Other than a few morality lessons over the rare dinners he would be at. Is it weird for you? That he’s a cop?”
“Well…” Maxim sighs deeply, his breath clouding out past his lips and drifting high into the sky. Our brief walk and chat seem to have relaxed him somewhat. “It certainly puts an odd spotlight on me. People talk. I have loyalties to prove. That sort of thing.”
“Can’t help that you helped decorate his home,” I tease as we reach the car. “Which, speaking of… come to the fair with me.”
Maxim’s hand lingers on the door and he raises one brow. “What?”
“There’s a Christmas fair I love going to. Come with me.”
“I don’t do fairs.”
“And I don’t take no for an answer,” I reply with a pout, releasing his other hand. “Unless this is your way of telling me that you never want to see under this again.” As sexily as I can, I smooth my hands down the thick coat keeping me warm in the cold.
“Targeting what a man holds dear… you learn fast.”
