Page 78 of Surrender: XXX Maxim
Chapter Twenty-One
“They’re on their way,” Maxim murmurs against my forehead. Sunshine spills in through the wide bay windows beside us, enhancing every nuance of his face. Two days after his meeting with his grandfather, and I can’t tell if he’s bothered by what happened. Or if he’s finally at peace with the possibility that Anatoli might be gone from his empire—for now. I want to assume it’s the latter. The gleam lurking in his gaze reinforces that hope, anyway.
“Lucius called and estimated they’ll arrive within ten minutes,” he adds. “Though, I believe everything is already sufficient.”
I frown, skeptical of that. Within a little under a week, I’ve realized the power that money can buy. In some ways, it’s like magic. Back in my old house, buying something like a new couch or mattress was an ordeal that required scouring the stores for a cheap deal, finding nothing, and eventually having to fish out whatever we needed from the dump.
In Maxim’s world, a house can be fully furnished in a matter of hours, complete with a fresh coat of paint. Jonathan’s recommended designer certainly knew her shit. A few minor touches and modest furniture work to transform the ‘rustic’ waterfront home into a world befitting the aloof style of Maxim—combined with enough nuances to make six kids feel comfortable dwelling in the same space.
Muted, soft grays and pops of navy create a cozy interior. The kids’ rooms each contain their various preferences—though Ainsley’s pony will have to wait, according to Maxim. A stable was one thing that he couldn’t guarantee within a week.
I hadn’t had the sense of mind to decide if he was serious or not. Getting every detail perfected consumed my focus. Why?
I have no fucking clue. Nothing in our old house inspired the same obsessive need in me before. I never went from room to room, hunting for a single piece of dust that might be out of place.
I never felt invested.
“They will love it,” Maxim insists for the umpteenth time. His hands snake around my waist, drawing me against him. “I will still maintain a property in the city for business reasons, but this…” He exhales raggedly, and I think I sense a hint of something that could be…contentment? “I am impressed with this.”
My heart swells up as I scan our surroundings, attempting to see whatever he is. A house untainted by blood or death. A view of the water with the city in the distance. A home, untouched by the Koslov name.
“Thank you,” I whisper, finding his hands with my own. “Thank you—”
“You thank me for a house?” he wonders incredulously. “I will thankyoufor this.”
He tugs aside the collar of his shirt, revealing his chest. It takes me a second to understand what he wants me to see—but when I do, I gasp. There, scrawled amid the scarred flesh is a series of inked lines spelling out a single name—kotyonok. Inflamed skin around the edges of the tattoo betray just how fresh it is. A day? Hours?
As I gape, he takes my hand and slips something cool and round onto my finger. I look down, unsurprised by the sight of his ring.
His lips brush my shoulder, imparting more than words could ever say. Slowly, his fingers creep along my collar, slipping beneath the thin fabric of my dress.
“Sir?”
We break apart and turn to find Tomas in the doorway. “They are arriving now, sir.”
Nerves flutter to life in my stomach as I follow Maxim to the front door. Two black cars advance toward us slowly, and the second they come to a stop, the kids stream out, craning their necks to take in the house.
“Holy shit,” Mikie exclaims, using his hand as a visor. “We could actually have a fucking boat!”
“Watch your mouth,” I scold, though my voice must lack the authority it used to.
“Holy shit!” The twins share manic grins and then take off, tearing into the house.
“Wait for me!” Eric calls, racing to keep up.
A hand tugs on my skirt, and I look down to find Ainsley staring up at me, wide-eyed.
“There is no pony,” Maxim says coldly.
She blinks in shock, her bottom lip trembling. Before a single tear can fall, he extends his hand.
“But would you like to see where he will live when it’s completed? Come with me.”
“Really?” She practically squeals as he leads her on a path across the expansive acreage surrounding the house itself. There, near the back with a view of the water, a team of builders have already erected the base of a stable and cordoned off the footprint with caution tape.
Ainsley peers over every inch with Maxim in tow, her eyes bug-wide. “Is my pony really going to live here?” she asks him repeatedly.
“Yes. One pony, or two. Perhaps more…” He meets my gaze from across the structure. “Whatever your sister allows, of course. Do you want to see where you’ll be able to ride him?” He points to a section of land a few yards away.
