Maksim: A Dark Mafia Romance (Akimov Bratva), Nicole Fox [love letters to the dead txt] 📗

me what he did with Lily, it was my lack of self-worth that got in my way. Am I letting Maksim walk over me in the same way? Did I miss my one chance at a happy life because I didn’t want to inconvenience a murderous Bratva boss who despises my family?

“I’m sorry that I have to go,” I say. “But I hope I can see you again soon.”

“Will we play Serfdom again?” she asks.

I nod. “Definitely. Maybe I’ll get you a new board with new pieces too.”

She grins before tightly hugging me. “Thank you, Mrs. A.”

I hug her back, but I can’t quite get any words out. When I let her go, I can barely look at her. I know if I look too long, I won’t be able to leave.

I nearly run past Larry and out the door. The police car is pulling away. Maksim is in his truck, his head bowed as he talks on his phone.

I can’t focus on hypotheticals. I need to focus on my plan of exposing Maksim. After he’s in prison, I can work on getting Lily out of this place. After that, we’ll get out of here. We’ll go to some little town or the middle of nowhere—somewhere that Mafias don’t exist. I can give up my career for that.

I can give up my feelings for Maksim, too. He can’t be a good man. He’s using me. He’s using Lily to get to me. He’s killing people. He leads a criminal organization that couldn’t care less about anyone except themselves.

I’ll remember that. And I’ll make him pay for it.

15

Maksim

“Chicken Kiev, sir.” Chef Calderon sets the plate down. The scent of the chicken wafts toward me.

“Thank you, Chef,” I say. “You can leave.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He walks out of the dining room, taking off his apron as he goes. The chicken Kiev is tender enough to cut with a fork and it’s as decadent as ever, but the memory of Cassandra’s grilled cheese makes me taste the melted cheese and the burnt bread. It should disgust me, but it’s a good memory.

Spending time with Cassandra and Lily was better than I thought it would be. Enjoyable, even. It’s unnerving. I’ve spent my life honing my rage as a weapon. But pleasant contentment feels alien and strange.

And genuine fear is still lingering in the background, desperate for my attention. I know more than anybody that caring about anyone gives me a vulnerability that’s easy to attack. Even with Natalie dead, the Balduccis found a way to desecrate her memory by killing Ravil at her gravesite. It’s a dishonor to her and a blatant attempt at hurting me by attacking those close to me—the living and the dead alike.

The thought of going to Cassandra’s gravesite and witnessing someone killed nearby as a way to mock her death—the idea causes an ache in my chest that’s deeper than the pain from it happening to Natalie. I can’t let it happen again. I don’t make the same mistake twice and I’m not about to start because of a Balducci.

I check my phone. Yakov has called continuously to update me on our attempts to attack, bait, and taunt Gianluigi. But the incursions into his territory have only managed to leave craters where our soldiers had shootouts. My men are better shots, but the Balduccis have home-field advantage.

I pore over a map of West Side of Manhattan, the Balducci stronghold. I circle their weaknesses until I forget all of my own.

Our two Mafia doctors are waiting when we enter through the basement of the Akimov Suites. They’ve already transformed the area into a temporary operating room, the plastic sheets whipping around us as we bring in Semyon, Yury, Joseph, and Ivan.

I grab Dr. Lisov’s shoulder—he’s been with us the longest and I’ve literally trusted him with my life. “They all need to make it. Understood?”

He nods, but his face is pale and his hands are less confident than usual as he and Dr. Puzakov transfer the four men onto the beds. The scent of blood is overpowering. The sound of panting and grunts, followed by occasional high-pitched keening, is debilitating. I secure the basement, pacing as the doctors work.

I should have found another doctor before we started this war. Two doctors can’t save four men.

I shouldn’t have attacked the Balduccis’ meth lab. I should have stuck with attacking their lieutenants one by one. They may have been more prepared, but they would never have been able to surmise which house we were going to attack next. The stress and stretching their resources would have worn them down eventually.

I should have found another way. Timofey, Konstantin, and Luca are dead. Semyon’s wound doesn’t look life-threatening, but Yury, Joseph, and Ivan could easily die. We won the battle—at least ten of his men are dead, including the Balduccis’ meth cooks, but I can’t justify our heavy casualties. I need a better way to execute my revenge. Our revenge.

And I have a way.

Cassandra.

Why don’t I just use her like I had always planned? I spent all that time tracking down Lily. I threatened Gianluigi’s black sheep cousin, I threatened the lawyer, and I played nice with the foster care system. I put in more work for this than any of my other plans of attack. But I haven’t pulled the trigger. I haven’t revealed my ace in the hole.

Why?

It’s because she’s not what I expected. She’s surprised me, challenged me in ways that no one in my world has ever dared. She’s a curiosity. A fun, sexy toy. I need to remember that I can break toys and get myself new ones. None of them will be like Cassandra, but I’m not going to throw away months of work because some woman spread her legs for me, especially when the trade-off is my men getting picked off.

I pull out my cell phone. Gianluigi’s number is buried in the contacts—another present from his lawyer. I dial.

“Who is this?” Gianluigi answers.