Page 51 of Unholy Tsar

“I did. Still do. But that can wait. Everything else can wait.”

He says it so solemnly, but my heart soars. “Oh?”

“Tell me, Cecilia. Are you addicted to drugs?”

My stomach bottoms out and dread floods my veins, chilling me to the bone. “W–what do you mean?” I manage to stammer, trying to process his question.

He runs a hand over his jaw, studying me intently. “You don’t seem like an addict to me. You don’t seem like a dealer, either. So help me understand, why would you ever smuggle drugs?”

My lips part, and I try to step away from him, but my back is already against the wall. “How did—How did you—?”

“Find out that you were convicted for drug smuggling? I told you it was only a matter of time before I found out everything there is to know about you.”

I shake my head, refusing to believe it. Did he get hold of my criminal record? Oh God. “No. No. No.” If he found out about that, what else did he find out?

“Trey Giroux. Who’s that man to you?”

“No! No! No!” I scream, desperation clawing at my throat as I try to escape the room. Away from that name. Away from the man who just uttered it. But he blocks my way.

“Who is Trey Giroux, Myshka?”

Somehow, hearing Maksim say my ex’s name alongside his pet name for me is what breaks me.

I drop to my knees, my hands clamped over my ears as a high-pitched noise suddenly pierces the room. Through a haze, I register the bedroom door violently swinging open and Mykel and his men rushing in, but I’m beyond control now.

No. No. No. No. No.

Suddenly, my vision goes black, and a heavy warmth descends over my body. It feels like someone’s dropped a blanket over my head and is now hugging me from behind. That’s when I realize the noise is coming from me.

“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, Malyshka. I’ve got you. I have you. You’re okay.” A soothing voice breaks through the chaos.

The voice belongs to Maksim, and I cling to his words like a lifeline.

Summoning all of my strength, I manage to wrestle control over my vocal cords and stifle the rest of my screams. Curling into a ball, I turn into Maksim’s arms with a whimper.

His hand goes straight to my head, and he pats me gently over the blanket as he rocks me in his arms. Slowly, the rhythmic back and forth lulls me into a sense of calm, until even my whimpers die down.

After what feels like an eternity, the blanket is lifted, and I glance up to meet Maksim’s concerned face. “Are you okay, Malyshka?”

Before I can answer, he scoops me up and carries me to bed with tender care. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.”

I blink, and he’s already at my side again, placing a glass of iced brandy in my hand.

“Drink. It’ll help,” Maksim says. That’s when I realize my left hand is wrapped around his fingers, and I’m holding on for dear life. I gulp down the drink, feeling the ice clinking against my teeth. It burns my throat as it slides down, but it also warms my belly.

“You were right,” I whisper. “I feel better.”

He gives me a small smile as he sets the glass on the nightstand, still keeping his other hand linked with mine. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I look away from him. “Talk about what?”

“You just had a panic attack, Cecilia. Because I mentioned that bastard’s name. What did he do to you?”

My eyes snap back to his, and for a moment, I see the devil. He looks so angry, so wrathful that it’s almost terrifying. Almost. But he’s not upset at me. He’s furious on my behalf. My lips tremble, and a hot tear spills down my cheek as I whimper his name. “Maksim.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it,” he murmurs, wiping my cheeks with the back of his fingers. “I’ll find out for myself. You don’t have to worry about anything. Shh, don’t cry.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving mine, and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. He’s here for me, and I know I can rely on him. The warmth spreads through me, easing the turmoil in my soul a bit. But then it hits me again, the realization that I can’t face this on my own. I need him. I need his strength, his comfort. Only he can help me through this.