Page 262 of Money Reigns
Maksim nods once, slow and deliberate.
“What is it that you’re making?”
I hesitate. ButI tell him.
He gave me a deal. I owe him the truth.
“A home,” I say softly. “For kids who age out of the system. And a scholarship fund… in Noah Hartman’s name.”
His eyes shift.
Recognition flickers there.
“That kid who died,” he murmurs. A beat passes. Then he nods.
He falls silent. Stares at the desk for a long moment. I don’t breathe.
“Deal. That’ll make my territory apillar of the community.”
“Exactly,” I reply, heart still racing.
He extends a hand across the desk.
I stare at it for a second, then take it.
His palm is rough. His grip, firm as he pulls me in hard, eyes locked on mine.
“You keep that mouth shut, yes?”
I nod. “Yes.”
The door swings open behind me.
Vaska steps in, face tight.
“You need to move. Beaumont’s two seconds from taking a bullet.”
My heart plummets. “Oh no—please don’t,” I gasp, bolting past him.
Maksim’s laugh follows me. “Vaska, call Sergei off.”
I don’t wait to hear more. I tear down the stairs, skipping steps, breath ragged. The second I hit the floor, I see them—War and Sergei, chest to chest, heat rising off both of them like smoke. The air practically vibrates with violence.
Both men are tall, furious, and locked in a verbal brawl, inRussian.Words fly like gunshots, sharp and escalating.
I wedge myselfbetween them before I can think better of it, my body the only shield between two men who look ready to kill each other. My heart’s about to crack my ribs.
“I’m so sorry,” I say breathlessly, eyes wide. “We’re leaving.Now.”
Vaska appears behind Sergei and mutters something.
Sergei curses under his breath but steps back, clearly annoyed.
I grab War’s arm and tug him toward the exit, pulse hammering.
Once we’re outside, I exhale hard, relief crashing over me in a wave.
“You speak Russian?” I ask, glancing up at him.
