Page 113 of Sinful Lord

“Obviously.”

Before I can respond to that, the bouncers turn to face us.

I guess we’ve been idling for too long.

“Keinen Schritt naher,” one of them says.

“English,” I snort, already fed up with these games. Maksim’s accusation has cut deeper than expected.

“Not a step closer,” the second bouncer sneers, lifting his hand at me.

I take an aggressive step forward, but Maksim places his arm in front of my chest.

“Easy,” he whispers to me, before turning his attention to the beefy guards. “We have a meeting with Timo Raum.”

“Timo does not have any meetings planned with you.”

“We’re with Yasha von Bingen,” I tell them, frustration boiling over.

The bouncers share a long look. “She is not here yet.”

“Ah fuck it,” Maksim sighs.

In the blink of an eye, he pulls out his gun and downs the two fuckers. They drop to the floor like anchors, immediately dead, dark blood pours from the bullet wound in their skulls.

“Shit,” I say, almost impressed. “What happened to taking it easy?”

“That was for you,” the old Russian chuckles, tucking his gun back under his belt. “I, on the other hand, can do whatever the fuck I like. Now, let’s get the hell in there and find out what’s happened to our girl.”

He brushes past me and quickly disappears behind the club’s back door. But it takes me a second to follow after him.

Our girl.

Is Maksim starting to trust me?

Why the hell would he do such a thing? He seems smarter than that.

My gut churns and the guilt returns.

Shit. Is that why? Can he see the desperation written on my face? The dread? The guilt? He must be misattributing them. At least he got one thing right.

We both care for Melina.

If he figures out the truth, though, I’ll be the next sucker with a bullet hole between my eyes.

“Crazy old man,” I grumble. Stepping over the bodies, I make my way inside.

I’m immediately met by a gust of pounding music. Even through the walls it’s so loud I can hardly hear myself think.

Still, I manage to discern a familiar voice call to me.

“Over here!” Maksim shouts, his head poking around the corner up ahead. I cautiously follow his voice.

“What the fuck…”

When I turn the corner, I find that Maksim has made quick work of another pair of guards.

Two dead bodies lay motionless on the floor. This time, the blood pours from their throats. Maksim wipes his bloody blade on the inside of his shirt before stuffing it away.