Page 51 of Maksim

Leaning back against the headboard, I run my hand over my knee. “Believe it or not, Maksim, my own safety had little to do with it.”

His head lazily turns my way like he isn’t convinced but is going to hear me out anyway. He thinks the worst of me. I can see that. I suppose I think the worst of him too.

I hold up my left hand to draw his attention to Daniel’s wife’s ring. “She saw this and assumed you gave it to me… Should I have told her the truth?”

He says nothing, just stares at me, waiting for my explanation. I can see it on his face. See him waiting for my ulterior motive. For some reason, it stings.

“I went with the explanation that made you look the best.”

“Why?” he asks, his eyes narrowing with skepticism. It’s a fair question.

I shift the comforter for no other reason than to busy myself while breaking eye contact. My heart swells thinking of Asher, my fantasy of bringing her a better life vaporized. In reality, I’ll probably never see her again, never speak to her. And I damn sure wouldn’t want her to see a picture of this.

“She reminds me of someone I know… It seemed like she was hurt by the idea of you not telling her about me, and I didn’t want to make her pain worse.”

I don’t look at Maksim, instead choosing to keep my eyes forward. I can picture his skeptical face and nearly hear the condescending tone of his voice before he speaks his next words.

“Thank you.”

My eyes widen in surprise at the softness in his voice, so soft it was barely audible. When I turn his way, it’s him who isn’t looking at me. Instead, he stares at the ceiling. I’ve seen him serious, but I’ve never seen him this soft.

“I didn’t do it for you,” I say because I have to. I don’t want to fight, but I don’t know how ready I am for a truce. “You let me squeeze myself inside a trunk for hours at a time out of fear for a roommate who didn’t exist.”

His eyes close as he sighs. “You took the wedding ring of your trafficker’s dead mistress after you brutally murdered her… In hindsight, bringing you here at all was beyond reckless, but forgive me for at least taking precautions for my sister’s sake.”

His fist, lazily tucked beneath the blanket, connects with my gut without ever moving. I bite my lip and suck in a breath through my nose to quell the sudden blow. His opinion, of all people’s, shouldn’t matter, but…

That woman, Daniel’s mistress, apparently, was not innocent. She stood there, watching Daniel strangle me, and if I hadn’t pulled a knife, she would’ve let me die.

I play with the ring on my finger, suddenly feeling ridiculous for taking it. If that wasn’t his wife, then this isn’t even his ring. And now, because of my lie, I’m stuck with it. Stuck with a false ring in a false marriage with a man who believes I’d harm an innocent teenage girl.

Does he really believe I’d hurt her?

The shame twisting my gut suddenly releases as anger takes hold. If he was afraid for her safety, he would have killed me. No person would put their sibling in harm's way. I’d slit Maksim’s throat in a heartbeat if he went near mine.

“You’re so full of shit,” I growl, his eyes snapping open when my voice climbs high. “Terrifying me over a fake roommate was never about safety. You didn’t want Anya to find out your dirty little secret, you asshole.”

“Okay.” He sits up, holding his hands up as if to pacify me. His eyes dart to the door every other second. “Calm down.”

“Do not. Do fucking not tell me to calm down.”

“Elira.”

“Admit it.” I whip toward him fully, my chin high and arms crossing over my chest. “You lie constantly. For once in your life, I want you to admit the truth. Then I will calm down.” A surge of power races through me that feels like a high I’ll never stop chasing. It didn’t cross my mind until now just how powerful a position it puts me in, having Anya in the next room, but the frantic way Maksim looks toward the door makes it obvious.

He cares what she thinks. She is his weak spot. His Achilles heel. His…

My eyes widen as I realize it.

Be a good girl, Elira. You know what men want.

Maksim doesn’t want a whore. He doesn’t even want a woman to claim. He doesn’t crave power. All the preconceived notions I’ve had about men have gotten me nowhere with him.

But now, finally, I know what he wants.

Her.

And with the way she was talking today, he has no clue how to bond with a teenage girl. From what I saw at dinner… He’s hopeless.