Page 40 of Shadows of the Past
Calm down, I tell myself.It’s over. Nothing happened.
But there’s a voice in my head whispering that my heart isn’t racing because of fear—it’s because of Maksim and the raw fury radiating off him as he stands there like he’s ready to tear Gregory apart limb by limb.
“What the hell is going on here?” the older man’s voice booms from the top of the stairs.
Maksim doesn’t even flinch. He lifts his gaze slowly toward him and answers without so much as a change in expression.
“If I find out you were behind this mess, Ivan, we’re going to have a problem!” Maksim’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade.
The old man narrows his eyes at me before shifting his gaze to the soldier, who’s now sobbing in a pool of his own blood.
“If I wanted to deal with your new toy, I’d have done it myself,son.”
The last word drips with condescension and unspoken meaning. As much as I want to accuse him, I know he’s right. I’ve seen what he did to the girl they brought in with me and it wasn’t subtle.
“Has your memory been refreshed?” Maksim asks the soldier again, his tone sharp and unyielding.
“I didn’t know we weren’t allowed to touch her,” the man stammers through his tears.
Seconds pass, each one stretching longer than the last as I hold my breath. At the end of the day, I’m just a piece of meat to them. No one expects Maksim to protect me or care about what happens to me. And deep down, I know he can’t afford to show any weakness.
I glance at the only person who seems to care whether I’m still breathing in the next few minutes. Maksim crouches over the soldier, whose face is pale and slick with sweat from blood loss.
“When did it become acceptable for anyone to touch what’s mine?” Maksim growls coldly, his words slicing through the air like ice.
For a fleeting moment, the soldier glances behind him, and my eyes instinctively follow his line of sight…straight to Akim. But I know it couldn’t have been Akim who sent him. Akim and Maksim are the only ones who’ve ever treated me like more than a pawn in this twisted game.
Maksim’s words settle slowly in my mind, their weight sinking deeper with each passing second. He’s sending a clear message, but his tone is so detached and devoid of emotion that it twists my stomach into knots.
He speaks about me like I’m property, a thing displayed behind glass, not a person with feelings or autonomy.
You’ll get out of here, Julia, I tell myself firmly.
Then Maksim pulls out his phone and dials someone without hesitation.
“Gather all the soldiers at the base of the stairs,” he orders curtly before slipping a knife from behind his jeans.
The man on the floor swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut as though willing himself to wake up from a nightmare.
I wish I could say my stomach churns at this scene, that after today, I’ll see Maksim differently. I wish I could say that. But instead, all I feel is an undeniable sense of power, a strange satisfaction knowing that this stoic Russian soldier is unleashing his fury because someone dared to harm me.
Oh, Maksim… What am I going to do about you and my treacherous heart when I leave this place?
“Maksim,” Ivan calls from the top of the stairs in a tone that carries more warning than authority.
Within seconds, soldiers flood into the house like a tide rolling in. Without thinking, I straighten my posture and take a step closer, just a few feet, to the only person who makes me feel safe amidst this chaos.
In the corner of the room, I catch sight of Akim, his brows furrowed as he takes in the scene. There’s anger in his eyes too, and I can tell he’s piecing together what happened, likely noticing the bruises on me.
Four soldiers stand nearby, their eyes fixed on my legs. I’m only wearing a pair of shorts, and without meaning to, the confidence and strength I felt earlier vanish. Their stares make me feel exposed, like I’m being appraised or auctioned off, and a shiver runs down my spine, and not the good kind.
Maksim doesn’t miss my reaction or their curious gazes. Within ten seconds, all four soldiers drop to the floor, each with a bullet hole in their forehead.
No one moves. The silence is deafening. I’m pretty sure I let out a gasp after the first two shots, but no one seems to notice.
“That’s what happens to anyone who so much as breathes in her direction,” Maksim declares coldly.
He glances down once at the man who attacked me before shooting him between the legs without warning. The man’s scream is muffled, and judging by how much blood he’s losing, I doubt he’ll last more than a minute.
