Ruthless Stranger by Maggie Cole

8

Maksim

The sun rises,and although I pulled the drapes shut to shield the light, slivers of it peek through. I've never hated the sun so much. I have to leave my krasotka. It is the last time I will ever see her. We are both leaving Vegas and going our separate ways.

In a different world, I would convince her to come back to Chicago with me. The blindfold would come off, and there would be no more secrecy about who we are. And I would do everything in my power to make her fall in love with me.

But my reality is cruel. She doesn't come from the same cloth I do. The man I have to be at times has ramifications. And they aren't anything I would ever subject her to.

Before I leave her, the order I placed arrives. It's a pair of organic yoga pants, a tank top, and a cashmere wrap. I figured she could wear it home and maybe sleep on the plane. I'm sure she'll be tired since we were up all night.

Before she fell asleep in my arms, she whispered, "Tell me your name. Show me your face. Please."

I didn't answer her. I only kissed her, as hungry as ever, then tugged her tighter to me. "Go to sleep, my krasotka."

She didn't speak for a moment. "You won't be here when I wake up, will you?"

I swallowed down the emotions creeping up. "No. It's for the best."

She circled her fingers in my chest hair while her lip shook against my pecs. Wet warmth trickled around the silk and onto my skin.

I stroked and kissed her head a thousand times until I was sure she was asleep. But now the sun is coming up, and it's only fair I go. I've already stayed too long. And I struggle with my final words to her but put them in a note:

My Krasotka,

I wish things were different...that I was different. Don't ever let any man not appreciate every beautiful part of you. I'll never forget you or our time together.

M

P.S. Call the driver on the card. He will take you back to your hotel and the airport when you're ready to fly home.

I putthe driver's card next to the letter. Then I clasp a thin bracelet around her wrist. The jewelry piece is simple, not flashy, which she seems to prefer, but she can wear it with any color since it has all three metals—rose gold, yellow gold, and platinum. Tiny diamonds rest where the metal curves. I bought it yesterday. I saw it and held on to it in case I ran into her. If I hadn't, I would have sent it to her room. But I carried the dainty item with me, and it's as if I knew deep down I would see her again.

This time, I don't remove her blindfold. I only untie the silk. I'm too scared she will wake up. The previous morning, I would have been able to handle it better. Today, I would break away from my resolve to keep her safe and away from the dangerous world I can never shake. She is too innocent and pure to be a part of it.

I stare at my krasotka one last time. Her perfect lips that ruined me more than I could have ever anticipated, I crave to kiss again. But I can't. Her dark hair, as silky as her blindfold, I want to run my fingers through one more time. But I don't dare. And the way her chest rises and falls so peacefully makes my body ache.

It's time to go. If she wakes up, it's going to be worse for both of us.

I tear myself away from her and creep out of the room. I text Dmitri that I'll meet him at the private airport. I'm not in the mood to be around anyone just yet. And I don't want to answer any questions about where I went the previous two nights. The guys tried to grill me yesterday, but I didn't tell them anything and quickly changed the subject.

It takes minutes to arrive at the hotel. I go straight to my room, pack my bag, and meet the guys on the plane. As soon as I get in, the flight attendant shuts the door.

Most of the guys are still intoxicated and continue drinking. I put on a joyful face and participate in all the banter going on, trying to forget about my krasotka, but the hollow ache in my belly only grows.

When we arrive in Chicago, I get in Dmitri's car, splitting off from my other brothers and the guys.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" he asks as soon as the door shuts.

"Nothing."

His green eyes turn to slits. "Don't lie to me. You disappeared two nights in a row. You've been extra quiet the entire trip."

I sigh. I'm not a liar. I'm a lot of things I despise, but lying or telling the truth is something I control. "I met a woman. Vegas is over. That's it."

He stays quiet then says, "You saw her both nights?"

"Yes."

"Who is she?"

I shrug. "I don't know anything about her. Not even her name."

A deep line forms between his eyebrows. "How is that possible?"

I give him the short version of our arrangement, and for the first time in a long time, my brother is speechless.

He finally asks, "She never asked you what your name was or to see your face?"

"No, she did. I told her I wouldn't break my word to her, and it was for the best."

"Why?"

I glance out the window at the buildings we pass. Snow lightly falls, dusting the ground. I wonder where my krasotka is and if she, too, is seeing snow. "I would have had to make her mine."

Dmitri lowers his voice. "I see. And why would that be a bad thing?"

I turn to him and meet his gaze. "I don't need to explain to you the man I am. You know what I've done and the things still looming over us. Anytime we think there is an end, it's always a beginning. And now that Boris's blood mixes with the Irish..." I close my eyes, wishing all the pieces of my darkness would vanish. I open my eyes and sternly say, "There is nothing in my world I want to subject her to."

"I felt the same way with Anna. But Anna had a choice. She didn't want me to throw us away. The part of our world that is evil is only a sliver of our life. And one day, we will be free of it. You deserve to be happy, Maksim. And Boris needs to stay away from the O'Malley's battles."

"His baby will be half O'Malley. It's not that simple, and you know it."

Dmitri shakes his head. "We need to keep reiterating to Boris there's been enough bloodshed. Killian, too."

The driver pulls off the expressway, and we stop at the light.

"I don't get it," Dmitri says.

"Get what?"

"All these years, you've been with plenty of women. You loved Jade, but you didn't worry about her."

Jade. This is the longest I've ever gone without thinking about her.

My krasotka made me totally forget about her.

"Jade is cut from our cloth. You know this." The only person who knows Jade's history is Dmitri. He was with me the night Jade had a meltdown about her past. Her father was beating her mother, and she shot him. Her brothers helped her dice her father up and dispose of the body. Her one brother fell into drugs and was threatening to talk to the police if Jade didn't keep paying for his habit. When she called his bluff, he came over high as a kite and almost killed her. She escaped and ran to my place. She didn't know Dmitri was in my house when she was sobbing hysterically with blood all over her.

Dmitri crosses his arms. "She is. But Anna's not. I don't think you should believe you have to settle for someone like Jade if there is another woman who will make you happy."

Have I been settling for Jade?

I didn't protect my brothers or mother from this life. I don't need to introduce anyone else to it.

"This woman I met doesn't deserve any part of our fucked-up shit," I mutter and turn back to the window. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. She's gone."

The car stops in front of my building.

"Maksim—"

"Let's drop it, okay?"

Dmitri sighs. "Sure."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay." He pats me on the back, and I get out.

The driver opens the trunk and hands me my bag. I go into my building, and my gut drops.

Not today.

Jade sits on the couch in the lobby. Her thigh-high black boots hide the legs I've licked too many times to count. Her miniskirt is short enough to reveal enough skin to usually drive me crazy.

She knows I love her in those boots.

This isn't happening.

"Maksim," she says and rises. Her jet black, edgy, chin-length bob is perfectly smooth. Her beautiful Asian skin is flawless as silk. And her hardened, I-don't-take-anyone's-shit expression that I used to admire suddenly seems overbearing and incredibly cold.

Maybe it's the warmth of being with my krasotka for the last two nights, but it doesn't rile my blood the way it normally does.

"What are you doing here?"

"I've been waiting for you."

"Jade, I'm not doing this today. I've had hardly any sleep in the last two days, and I don't have the energy."

She steps forward, puts her hand on my arm, and tilts her head up. Her eyes turn from cold to lukewarm. It's an expression she only reserves for me. No one else ever sees any softer side of her. "I haven't slept a lot, either. Let me come up with you. I'll run a bath and then we can take a nap. We can talk later when you're refreshed. I promise."

My jaw twitches. There's still a small part of me that wonders if we can be something more. But I don't know if it's possible anymore. Not because of Jade but because of me. This weekend was too intense. I experienced the opposite of everything Jade and I were. And I'm not sure if I want to go back. Even if I can't have my krasotka, I just don't know if I have any feelings left for Jade.

"I can't. Not today."

I've never resisted Jade before. She's always had some sort of power over me. And something flashes in her eyes. I'm not sure what to make of it, but I've seen similar eyes before in men when they realize they are about to lose.

Her eyes glisten. "I screwed up. Don't throw me away, please."

My chest tightens. "I need to rest, Jade. I can't think right now. Go home. We'll talk later."

She steps closer and reaches up, grasping my cheeks. "Can we have dinner this week and talk?"

I don't respond right away. Her hands feel like cold cement on my face. The zinging warmth of my krasotka's touch is all I can think about.

Jade desperately begs, "Please, Maksim."

I cave. "All right. Later in the week."

She smiles, pulls my head down, and stands on her tippy-toes. She attempts to kiss me, but I turn so she hits my cheek.

Her eyes get that look again, and it pains me. I don't want to hurt her. But I'm not sure if we can ever be again.

Do I even want her anymore?

It's a question I never thought I would contemplate. I've just always seen myself with her. But now, all I crave is a life with my krasotka. I'm an almost forty-six-year-old man. I'm not naive. My krasotka and I will never be. But I'm not sure where that leaves Jade and me.