Page 1 of Surrender: XXX Maxim
Chapter One
God has a twisted sense of humor—and for some reason, he seems to enjoy testing my sanity, especially for his amusement. With chaos. With violence. And with scenarios that force me to ask myself questions like—what do you do after a man proposes marriage while towering over a dead, mutilated body, Francesca?
The answer turns out to be relatively simple. You stand rigid in a corner while said murderer makes a single phone call, and then you watch him pace circles around his handiwork.
He can’t seem tostopmoving. Raging. Thriving on the stench of blood and the taint of death. He’s like an inferno of brutality, burning so bright it hurts to stare at him for too long.
Ironically, I’m frozen in place, incapable of looking away.
The only part of me seemingly alive is my heart, beating in tune to his every footstep.Thump. Thud. Thump.Amid the ominous soundtrack, I’m riveted. I’m numb.
Though I should be terrified.
Of him.
Of myself.
In this moment, Maxim Koslov lives up to the worst aspects of his identity I could minimize until now. The criminal who deals in violence and death. The mob boss, dripping blood in his polished suit. The murderer.
As if reading my mind, he inclines his head in my direction, his gaze unreadable. “Leave, if you want. Go.”
But he utters no further instructions. Deep in my soul, I know that his driver isn’t lurking out front either, and he never offers the keys to his car to drive myself.
The command was a test. Namely, of the fragile promise linking us together amid this chaos. One forged in blood and a vow. My finger aches beneath the figurative weight of it—a marble ring with a single name etched into its surface.
It’s so simple in its beauty and so damning in its symbolism.
Marriage.
Corruption.
Surrender.
“I told you to go.” Maxim stands by the wall now with his hands braced before him, his back muscles taut. I could trace the line of his spine even through his clothing; he’s so rigid. Stone. “You won’t want to see what happens next…”
Next. Implying the ultimate fate of the body lying on the floor a few paces away.
I can’t look at it. Or give it its proper name in my head. Nope. It’s just a thing.
“I won’t shield you if you stay,kotyonok. I won’t. If you run now, I will not judge you, either.”
Real urgency laces his words this time. He truly doesn’t want me to see this—the twisted aftermath of his violence. The real Maxim Koslov.
But I can’t run.
Move.
Breathe.
And with a sigh, he finally acknowledges that fact, though his muscles bulge against his skin as if threatening to explode from it. He’s angry. And in some ways, I think he’s resigned, too. If I can stomach him at his worst then…
We’rebothfucking insane. It’s why I hear footsteps that shouldn’t exist, advancing with confidence in our direction.
Then a voice rings out, far too stern to be a figment of my imagination.
“I’m here.” We both turn to face the figure who appears at the mouth of the hall. I flinch against the nearest wall, but Maxim looks unsurprised.
“Finally.” He nods in welcome. “You came. I was afraid you were away on one of your little trips.”
