Page 40 of Silent Ties

“Max.”

The use of his first name makes him stop.

“What do you want from me?”

His face is the same. Handsome but impassive. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you want from me?” I ask again. “Do you want me to. . . What am I supposed to do?”

He walks back a few steps. “Do?”

I stare up at him, unblinking. His question is serious. He doesn’t understand what I’m asking. But even if he did, would it matter? He won’t divorce me. I’m stuck and due to Elijah’s visit, I’m struck by how much the walls are closing in on me.

“I’m confused,” I say. “What do you want out of this marriage?”

He cocks his head to the side, analyzing me.

“Do you want me to cook and clean for you?” Because he’s made it clear we have a maid. “Or just wait for you naked in bed every night?”

Why can’t I figure out what’s going on behind those dark eyes?

“I could be your friend.” The offer comes out tentative, but hopeful.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m stuck with you.” The words come with asmall breath of laughter, but his jaw spasms and I internally curse myself.

My sarcasm does me no favors. It’s like he gets his feelings hurt. He doesn’t like teasing or joking that he perceives to be at his expense.

But I’m not joking this time.

“You won’t divorce me,” I remind. “Even though we could.” And should.

“So you can go to Marissa?”

“I wouldn’t tell her anything.”

“She’ll kill you.”

“What?” I blink. Maxim speaks with authority, but this time there’s something else in his eyes. Something like. . . worry?

“She made you into her pawn,” he says. “Divorcing me means you offer her nothing. You think she lets you walk away from this? You think you’ll sit at that bar of hers and tell the story of how you married into the Zimins for a couple of months? The whole thing is a joke.”

I step back at his last word.

The way he summarizes Marissa’s moves reminds me of his uncle. I’m a chess piece to these people. Max is keeping me, a dirty strip of flag played during a game, safe because otherwise, Marissa will claim me again.

“If you’re a useless little spy, she’ll kill you off just to prove a point to her other minions. Good thing for you, you don’t belong to Marissa anymore. You belong to me. And if anybody is going to kill you, it’s going to be me.”

“Are. . . are you going to kill me?”

Maybe it’s best to get it over with. To stop walking on eggshells and worrying about how sad my life turned out. Let it end now and it’ll be over. I’ll feel nothing when I’m buried six feet under the ground.

He brushes a hand across my cheek, his fingersdragging down my skin until they curl around my throat. “I like you too much for that.” He presses against my pulse point. “You’re a pliant little thing and my cock loves that.”

My face heats. “I’m not complaining about the rough sex.” His dark eyes flare, his annoyance spiking too. “I’m asking about what you want outside of the bedroom.”

How can I occupy this cold, empty penthouse?

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