Page 92 of Maksim
“Oh.”
“I don’t understand that, though, because obviously I didn’t make fifty thousand dollars for you to match.” She lets out a nervous laugh that dies as seriousness takes over her features. “And there’s no way I could pay it back anytime soon. I’d have to work…” Her head shakes. “I don’t know how long I’d have to work.”
She looks so uncomfortable. So uncertain.
Should I not have done that? Does she feel like she owes me now?
“You don’t have to pay it back.” I open my mouth, then close it with a sigh, wishing I’d prepared for this. “It’s payment,” I lie and motion toward my house. “I’m matching your pay at the bakery, but you do so much more for my home. I just…”
Just what?
I care about you, Elira. I admire you. You came here for your family, to help support them, and I can’t bear the thought of you progressing slower than you want on a baker’s wage. I want to help you. I need to help you.
I love you.
The words squeeze so tightly, my eyes shut.
She’s going to leave. Any day, she can go when she chooses. Now that her family has the money, she doesn’t need the bakery job. She could go. Today. Now. The Bratva wouldn’t follow. The trafficking organization has been paid off. Any day now, she’ll realize she no longer needs me.
And it’ll hurt. I’ll survive, but it’ll hurt. And I need to prepare for that pain.
“You just what?” she asks, lightly placing her hand on mine.
I swallow and stare into eyes I could look at forever. “I just want to make sure we’re even before you leave… I owe you that.”
I can’t say for sure, but her body seems to shrink. Her eyes flicker with something that looks like disappointment for the briefest moment, but she smiles and nods. “Yeah, Maksim. We’re even.”
That was too casual. Forced.
Fuck.
I open my mouth, but Elira stands before words come out. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Do you need something from inside?”
My hand raking through my hair, I close my mouth and shake my head.
I try to join in on Anthony’s and Hugh’s conversation, but I’m too distracted by my conversation with Elira.
Minutes go by without her return.
My leg becomes restless, tapping away at the patio until I can’t take it anymore, and I go after her.
I check my bedroom first but see no sign of her. “Elira?”
Someone clears their throat behind me, and I turn to see Alik, of all people, standing in my hallway.
My eyes narrow. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He looks over his shoulder. “Looks like you’re having a little gathering I wasn’t invited to. Is this a traitor's only thing?”
“You gonna run back to the boss, Alik? Tell him I have an Italian in my house?”
His lips thin. He doesn’t like that.
“I have information I think you may want.”
“What?” I snap.
It could be uncalled for, but lately, I’m seeing Alik as more of an opponent than an ally. Nikita seems to be using him more and more as his personal handyman, and I don’t like how Alik knew to find me at Hugh’s the night the trafficking organization came for Elira. It’s possible it wasn’t the first place he checked. That it was a lucky guess. But more likely, he knew I was there because I’m being tracked, something I already suspected. What I didn’t suspect was that Alik was the one tracking me, and I don’t know who I’m more pissed at, me or him.