Page 71 of Surrender: XXX Maxim
“Warn me?” I say, forcing myself to stay focused. “About what?”
“Or maybe I seek to test him?” His lip quirks, transforming his expression from concerned to playful. He peeks toward the hall, where Maxim presumably is, and lets loose a wistful sigh. “He’s stewing now, you do realize? Wondering what lies I’m telling you. What secrets I’ll let slip about him. He’s always been a jealous boy, too possessive for his own good. That is why he could never father children, you see. He would only ever see them as competition—”
“Just get to the point,” I snap, losing my neutral tone.
His words sneak into my brain long after he’s gone silent, sowing seeds of doubt that blossom into full-on panic. Could there come a day when I’ll have to choose between my family and Maxim...
No.I shake my head, picturing the way he acted at the beach house. He’s already proven the steps he’ll go to in order to avoid that very situation—I can’t deny that the effort pushed him to the breaking point.
“The point?” Dima sits back and sips from his wine glass. “Maybe Maxim and his love life are the least of my concern? My motives may be more selfish in nature.”
“You just want to taunt him, then?” I deduce, pushing back from the table. Irritation prickles my skin. I’m such a fucking idiot, falling for his trap. “You just want to play with him for entertainment like Milton said.”
“Yes.” He nods thoughtfully. “Or closure. According to my therapist, I will never be truly happy unless I close old doors, so to speak. He’s a bit of an old fuddy, duddy. He claims that I must discover what’s been bothering poor Dima since he was a wee, little lad and finally slay that monster.”
I stiffen in horror, still perched on the edge of my seat. “You want to kill him?”
“Maxim?” He frowns. “No. Where would the fun in that be? Iwantsomething from him, though. I want…acknowledgment. I want him to admit that he is as weak and as human as the rest of us. That he is a violent, broken, damaged fool, as am I. To pretend otherwise is simply unproductive. Having him say as much might do wonders for my psyche. His too.”
“By toying with him?” I croak. Dima is still smiling, but the vitriol in his words stings deeper than it should. Perhaps because Maxim all but confessed the same thing? “Why do you feel like he can’t change?”
“Because I cannot,” he says simply. “I’ve tried. It’s no fun. No family for poor Dima. No woman to ply with some ring. I’ve chosen against pretending it’s even a possibility.”
His lips part in a beautiful, chilling smile. “Therefore, I’ve decided my dear brother should realize the same before he hurts you in more ways than by using a whip.”
I cringe, but he beams in triumph. “It isn’t my place to kink shame,” he adds. “Maxim’s been known to dabble in masochism for a long while. Though who am I to judge? I have my own…quirks.”
He waits as if daring me to ask him more. When I don’t, his smile widens, baring all of his white, perfectly straight teeth.
“I don’t prefer to tie up my women, but I do enjoy the odd mind game or two. Convincing some poor, desperate bachelorette that I may be the answer to her financial dreams—only to watch her run in disgust the more I put her desperation to the test. Love is relative, you see. A little humiliation here. Some deception there. You find out quickly what price some might put on their so-called happy ending.”
I can’t disguise my disgust this time. “That sounds insane—”
“Insane, yes.” He forms a steeple with his fingers and perches his chin on top of it. “Because I am.Clinically,though I assume you were being a tad dramatic in your assumption. The old man had us both rigorously tested, you see. And I was tested yet again when I was separated from my brother and sold to…let’s call it a ‘boarding school.’”
I nearly choke. Maxim put it a different way.The loser would go to Sevastyn, he said.Sevastyn,the pedophile who gained influence through corruption. The same man Milton despised for equally murky reasons.
“So hehastold you something,” Dima suspects with a knowing grin. “Maxim is a very smart man. In fact, he possesses above-average intelligence, though he goes out of his way to disguise the full extent. Milton, now he is just a tad smarter. But me?” He waggles his eyebrows. “My intelligence was deemed immeasurabletwice. My sanity, equally confounding. Depending on who you ask, I am afflicted by a long list of ailments and disorders. Asperger’s. Dissociative identity disorder. Antisocial personality disorder. Generalized anxiety. Paranoia. Post-traumatic stress. Attachment disorder. It goes on and on…”
He gestures with a bored flick of his wrist, and I nearly contemplate surrender. My fingers grip the sides of my chair, rooting me in place. Fear of Maxim’s potential reaction is the only reason why I don’t lurch to my feet and head straight down the hall.
Yet.
“So yes, I am insane,” Dima continues, oblivious to my discomfort. “Though I wouldn’t take it as an insult. In fact, I’m grateful for my many quirks. They’ve kept me humble, you see. In touch with my feelings.” He extends his slender arms and hugs himself. “But as I work through my many…hang-ups, I was forced to confront the reality that there are some things in my past I must address. Even if the other parties involved may not be inclined to revisit such memories. I need to bury them once and for all.”
The violent phrasing draws my interest enough for me to question, “Like?”
“Like,did Maxim tell you about the day he tried to kill me?” He tugs at the collar of his sweatshirt, revealing his scar. For the shock value of it, I realize. He wants me to jump in disgust at the raised, ropey strip of flesh.
But I don’t.
“Yes.” Does that surprise him? I can’t tell. His amused grin doesn’t reveal an answer either way.
“Let me guess. He told you some sob story about how I ruined his perfect, innocent childhood via our father’s ruthless need to assert his authority? He told you that I was a weak, worthless rodent always scurrying underfoot? And I’m sure he boasted about taking a knife to my throat as well. So typical.”
I school my expression to match his—hopefully unreadable.
“He did.” Unconvinced, Dima leans forward, his eyes sparkling. “Do you want to hear the truth? Thetruthis that, one day, a stranger barged into the bordello where my mother worked and lived—she was a prostitute, you see—and he dragged me out by my hair. I’d never seen him before in my life, mind you. Still, he took me to a strange house, full of strangers who looked at me like I was nothing. Then he said I was his son.” He wiggles his fingers, his eyes comically wide. “Quite the surprise, you see. But my newfound brother, didn’t take the news too well. Not long after our meeting, he attacked me. Punched me in front of our father, who egged him on in approval. Always the showoff, he made a spectacle of it, dear Maxim. He knocked me down. Fractured my cheek—” he points to his left eye. “He spit on me. Told me I was a rat, unworthy of living.Blah, blah, blah.Given my previous life circumstances, those words were nothing new to me. But…”
