Page 45 of Surrender: XXX Maxim
“Of course not,” Daisy snarls, her cheeks red, eyes blazing. “Because you wouldn’t do that, would you, Frankie? You wouldn’t be dating someone without telling us. Yourfamily—”
“Of course, she wouldn’t. Which is why she rightly refused my offer,” Maxim explains while flipping over a cooked burger. His shoulders are hunched, his posture rigid, and yet his voice doesn’t hold a trace of annoyance. The relentless calm neutralizes even Daisy’s hostility. Slowly, she sits back down.
“You mean more to her than anything I could offer,” he continues. “More to her than any promise of money, or luxury. In fact, she threatened to leave me if I ever questioned that devotion again, and as you can see, there is no ring on her finger. Consider this vacation as my way of apologizing for insulting her. Nothing more. I can only hope that she will reconsider.”
He finally looks in my direction, but I turn away and hunt for the first distraction I can find. “I…I’m going to take care of these dirty dishes.”
I snatch up the nearest empty plates and cut across the terrace before anyone can recover enough to stop me. My hands shake so badly it takes me three tries before I can pry open the door to the kitchen. Fuck!I trip over the threshold in my rush, and the plates fall from my hands, smashing apart at my feet.
I can’t even muster the sense of mind to clean the mess. Instead, I approach the sink, panting to control my breathing. Running the water as hot as it can go and shoving my hand beneath it is the only way to regain some semblance of clarity.
So much for our day of normalcy.
I close my eyes, mulling over the potential ways I can fix this mess. Apologize? Slap Daisy a second time? Run?
It’s too late. My neck prickles with the awareness of someone behind me, betrayed by heavy footsteps.
“I know that is not how you wanted to tell them,” Maxim admits. Before he can come closer, I turn off the water and tuck my stinging hand to my chest. “I apologize—”
“For what?” I force out a broken laugh. I don’t know what’s more disorienting, this entire conversation? Or the rare hint of regret from him? “You covered for my ass when you didn’t have to. Thank you. But…”
“But?” he prompts.
“You wanted me to take your name, but what about them? Daisy’s right, we’ve had our fair share of winners come through. And…have you thought about what kind of relationship you’re comfortable with allowing?”
Melanie had her suckers throw around the word ‘Daddy’ like it meant something. I could never do the same to the kids. Even with a description as harmless as“Maxim, the brother-in-law for protection only.”
He doesn’t say anything—but again, it’s as though he’s reading my mind, waiting for the real concerns to come spilling out.
“And what if…I don’t want it? Your name. Even if your grandfather removes the bounty. And not because of you,” I add in a rush. “But…heabusedyou—”
“Don’t.” He grits his teeth and glances at the doorway. Thankfully none of the kids have followed us inside. Yet. Returning his attention to me, Maxim’s tone deepens in warning, “He has nothing to do with it.”
“Doesn’t he?” I rake my gaze over him, sensing the scars lurking beneath the polished exterior. “Your uncle was a pedophile,” I add softly. “Only God knows about the rest of your family. You care about the Koslov name, but do you really want Ainsley to share the name of people like that? As you can tell, we aren’t exactly the most perfect family to start with.”
“You’re upset,” Maxim concedes. He crouches and grabs the broken plates with his bare hands. After tossing them into a garbage can, he heads for the door. “Come and eat.” For whatever reason, his voice still holds that persistent calm. His posture, however, stiffens, his jaw tightening. “Give me this night to prove that I meant what I promised you, and the rest…” He blinks, suppressing whatever emotion might threaten his composure. “We can discuss later.”
“That’s it?” I wave halfheartedly in the kid’s direction. “We just spring a bomb like that on them and then pretend it never happened?”
“You wanted normalcy,” he says. “I may not be an expert, but I believe this might be part of it. Honesty. Or have you changed your mind?”
He waits near the doorway of the terrace until I finally leave the sink and follow. Outside, all six kids remain seated, but none of them seem willing to make eye contact. We merely coexist in awkward silence until Maxim reclaims his spot before the grill.
“Who wants another hotdog?” he asks, breaking the quiet.
Easily distracted, Ainsley perks up and raises her hand. “Me!”
“Me too,” pitches in Mikie.
Then Ray, Ollie, and Eric all voice their assent.
Finally, Daisy sighs, lifting her hand. “I’ll take one, too.”
“Alright, then.” Maxim continues to cook, and I force myself to reclaim a lounger, watching him. Them. It’s a slow, clumsy return to our previous rhythm, and it doesn’t come easily by any stretch of the imagination.
But it happens.
Eventually, it happens.
