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

“Mrs. Cassie?” Lily asks. “What’s wrong?”

I swallow, looking down at her. “I—I just think it’s sad that … I’m sad about what happened to one of the women on the news.”

It’s not like I’ve been completely detached from the city’s tragedies. I’ve written up articles about some of them. But I’ve been far enough away from it to think spreading truth was worth the pain and sorrow. An uptick of violence will eventually resolve itself when the police manage to dismantle the other criminal organizations.

But time is passing without any resolution and it’s becoming more and more apparent that Maksim’s prediction for what would happen to the city was stunningly accurate. I interviewed the chief of police a week and a half ago and, off the record, he agreed with me that the Bratva had been like a paternal figure to the other criminal organizations—it kept everyone in line, punished those who disregarded their rules, and kept everyone out of their territory, which cut off many of the organizations from spreading violent chaos. He adamantly stated he thought my article was important and necessary and that the Bratva needed to be taken down—but he also told me he wasn’t confident he could deal with all these smaller criminal groups that are thriving more than ever.

In the end, I’ve brought the city into an era of cruelty and destruction and I lost Maksim in the same stroke. He was terrible for using Lily and me as pawns, but after all this time apart, I know I love him and that’s a terrible conclusion to come to after everything that’s happened.

“Can you tell Mr. Maksim that I hope he doesn’t work too hard? ’Cause I know that’s not healthy, like, when someone never takes a vacation.”

My forehead furrows. “That’s very nice of you. I’ll tell him that.”

She is the sweetest kid. I can’t be certain because I’ve never felt this way about another kid, but I don’t think it’s just because she’s my kid. Every time I leave her at her foster home, I feel a sense of loss. I’ve been contemplating the idea of adopting he. It would be hard to be a single mother, but I’m certain it would be worth it. I’m just not certain if it’s the best thing for Lily. If I learned anything from Maksim, it’s that love isn’t always enough. Sometimes, it’s just an inflatable raft in a hurricane—it only gets you deeper into trouble you had no business being near.

She smiles at me, happily biting into her panini. I shift the discussion to her classes, her idea to create a brand-new board game from scratch, and her soccer practices. I avoid looking at the TV.

After I drop off Lily, the ache returns with a vengeance as I walk away from the foster home. When the ache starts to grow, I start jogging. It doesn’t make me feel any better, so I start sprinting. I dodge through the people on the street, trying to run fast enough that my emotions can’t catch up with me.

I run until I reach the door to my apartment. Sweat sneaks down my temples and I’m gasping for breath. When I step into my apartment, my eyes instinctively check the kitchen counter, hoping to see a rose or some other sign that Maksim has been here. When there’s nothing, I move quickly past it, jumping into the shower. I wash away the sweat and the anxiety, but the anxiety returns as soon as I step out of the shower.

I get into my pajamas and settle into bed. I stare up at the ceiling. I try to forget the newscast and Lily’s face as I left her at the foster home, but they refuse to leave my head. I let them take over until my mind gives up and slips into a restless sleep.

The room is full of eyes.

I blink, jerking awake. All the eyes from my dream disappear except for two sets of them. The black ski masks slowly come into focus as I realize two men are standing over me. I swallow back a scream.

I dive toward my end table, where I keep a Beretta Nano, but the two men lurch forward, grabbing for my arms. The one on the right manages to grab onto my right arm, but I slip my hand out of the left one’s grasp. I hit him twice, my fist colliding against his arms as he attempts to restrain me again. When he manages to grab onto my arm, I yank my arm closer to me to pull his arm near my chest, and I bite down hard.

“Son of a bitch!” he cusses, wrenching his arm away. I spit out the clothing fibers as I slam my fist into the other man’s chest. This one is more barrel-chested and when my fist hits him, I might as well be attacking a tank. I fight to get my legs out from under my blankets as the Tank snatches my other arm, gripping onto me so tightly that it hurts. I spit at his masked face. He wrestles me off the bed. The other man grabs onto my hair, yanking it back.

“No,” the Tank snaps at the other man. “You know the orders. Necessary force only.”

“It seems pretty damn necessary at this point,” the other man growls.

“Do you want to deal with the fallout of any injuries? You know he’s ready to commit a bloodbath.”

The man releases my hair, roughly grabbing onto my arm as the Tank releases it. I throw my weight recklessly, hoping the combination of my weight and gravity will loosen one of the men’s grasp, but all my prior struggling has taught them a new level of vigilance.

“You better get off me,” I threaten, channeling Maksim’s gravitas, but the fear trembles in my voice and they ignore me as they drag me toward the door. “I know people who will kill you if you