Chapter 8 - Pearl

"Dad," I call out as I walk into the house looking for him after school. "I did a lot of thinking about the fight we had yesterday when we were on the plane, and I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

No sound comes from in the house, but that's not unusual.

He's likely sitting in his office pouring over the ledgers, trying to find another way to make ends meet this month. I would have thought that a man who has as much money as he has would be good at budgeting. Most of the time, though, the money seems to be gone before we get to the last day of the month.

For as long as I've been alive, he's played a good game at trying to keep up with everybody around him even with people exploiting his friend zone. It's always one venture after another, but nothing pans out.

He seems to think that he needs to be the richest man in the room, or at least it must look like it.

His connection to the Italian mafia only aids in that. Without their money, I doubt we would be staying afloat.

With a sigh, I kick off my shoes, not caring if they scuff the wall when they bounce off the tiled floor. Irritation courses through my veins as I yank open the hall closet and throw my backpack inside.

Of course, he's giving me the silent treatment instead of talking to me about what happened. Sometimes I think I'm the adult.

This isn't the first fight we've had, and I doubt it'll be the last. It seems like the two of us can only agree for a day or two before we are back at each others' throats.

Most of the time it seems like we're two diametrically opposed people who are bound to never, ever get along.

My counselor at school says it'll get better as I get older, but I think she's full of shit.

I don't see how any of this could get better. None of it.

I slide out of the blazer and hang it on the hook inside the closet. I hate the blazer. There are times I think that it would be better to burn the damn thing than to return to private school.

Dad seems to think that the only way to get a good education is to attend a private school with a bunch of uppity assholes.

One of these days, they're going to figure out that the only reason I can afford to go to private school is because my dad loves the mafia more than he loves me.

"Are you even here?" I shout to the empty house around me. "I know you didn't have to go away tonight, which means that you have to be here since you're always home before me. We need to talk."

Groaning, I walk down the hallway, footsteps heavy as I push open one door after another, searching for him in the lounge room, the formal dining room, and his office.

There's no sight of him in the rooms he normally hides from me, so I head to the home theatre.

As I shove thick burgundy curtains out of the way, I prepare to talk to him, trying to explain my side of the story yet again.

"If you would only leave the mafia behind, we might actually be happy. I could see a world in which we would finally get along."

No matter how many times I tell him, it doesn't seem to clock with him that he's losing out on living life with me.

"The day I turn eighteen, I'm out of this hellhole and never looking back. There's no way I'm going to get wrapped up with them like an idiot.

As soon as I can be free, I'm running. Dad can either come with me, or he can stay, but I won't allow him to drag me down with him anymore.

There's only so much I can love him and try to save us before I have to give up.

With the curtains shifted to the side, all I can see are the empty leather recliners and the dark screen at the front of the room.

There's still more house to search, but my stomach growls, prompting me to walk to the kitchen.

It's only when I round the island in the center that I see the blood on the ground. The blood smeared on the floor leads to my father's body, his arms outstretched as if he's still trying to drag himself to the phone that's sitting on the counter.

The scream that comes from me sounds more animal than human, high-pitched and terrifying. I scream until my voice is hoarse. Until I can't make another sound.

Sobs wrack my body until I'm sure that I have no more tears left to cry, and it's only once I stand, blood staining my hands where I try to revive him, that I see Nicolo.

"We'll get revenge ."

***

Sweat dampens the back of my neck, sticking my hair to my skin as I sit up in bed, pulling my knees tight to my chest and holding them. It feels like there's a hand, squeezing the air from my lungs, forcing me to take quivering breaths, trying to get enough oxygen to breathe.

It's been nearly a year since I last dreamed about his death.

It still hurts.

I would give anything to be able to go back in time to come into that kitchen before his death, maybe even an hour sooner. When the paramedics showed up, they said that there was nothing I could do, that he'd succumbed to his wounds. If I had been home a little bit earlier, I might have been able to help him.

But how do you stop a man from bleeding out of a gunshot wound to his head?

It is a question that I still don't know how to answer, even though I've spent too much of my life thinking about it.

With a deep breath, I pull myself out of bed and walk to the doors, open them, and step out onto the balcony for the fresh morning air that greets me. The stone of the balcony is cold against my feet, much like the chill in the breeze. The scent of early morning dew carries far as strands of grass dance in the wind.

I stare at the mountains, watching the sun rise to crest over the top of them. If I had known that a place like this existed back then, I might have run away to Russia instead of staying with Nicolo and trying to figure out the rest of my life.

Truthfully, though, I never would have left.

He finished putting me through private school, even if I did have to live in a group home for a long time. He said it was for my safety—that it was better that I stayed with the kind woman running the group home and other kids instead of living with him. He had said that his life wasn't safe, and I knew that to be the truth.

Nicolo's way of life robbed me of the only person in the world who loved me.

As soon as I could, I left the home behind, eager to start fresh. Three years of hell was more than enough. I concentrated on my degree, studied hard, and in my spare time was trained and taught skills by Nicolo and his men. For my protection, he said, to be able to fend for myself if necessary.

Walking over to the railing, I look at the glass panels and the droplets on them. For a moment, I crouch down and trace my finger through the condensation, drawing a picture of a cat.

I stand up again, and glance over the railing down at the mountains and saw Maxim heading toward a building at the back of the property. Or at least what I could see of the property that stretched beyond the small wood building and disappeared in the trees until the leaves became too thick to see through.

I wait for a few minutes, hoping that he'll come out, but when he doesn't, I turn and head back into the house.

If I were willing to go against Nicolo's orders, now would be the time to kill Maxim.

I could track him down to that building. As far as I know, he's in there alone. He said that none of his people would be visible this week. It would be easy enough to slip in with a gun, press it to the back of his head and pull the trigger.

Except I want him to know that I'm the one who killed him.

I want him to know that I'm Aaron's daughter. It's going to be sweet to see his expression when he realizes he can't get away with killing my father.

And then I'm getting my revenge.

I don't think he would ever know what hit him. He wouldn't expect it at all.

He should have run a background check on me. An extensive one.

That's going to be an oversight that he's going to live only a short time to regret.

***

Late into the morning, Maxim stands from the table and offers me his hand. Playing the part, I know I'm supposed to, I put my hand in his, letting him lead me out the back door, down the steps, and around the winding stone path to the building he had been to earlier this morning.

As he opens the tall wooden doors with iron framing on them, the scent of horses and hay hits me immediately.

"Do you know how to ride?" he asks, stepping inside the stable, his boots hitting the floor.

"I've only ridden a couple of times before, but I have to admit most of it was done at those free pony rides at petting zoos." I keep a straight face. Of course, I know how to ride, but I let him believe that I'm a little nervous at the thought of getting onto a horse.

"Well, being on a horse is nothing like being on one of the ponies at a zoo. You don't need to worry though; my horses have been raised here since they were foals. I've taken to teaching them myself, making sure that they're gentle enough for even the most inexperienced rider."

"Are you sure that your horses aren't going to throw me off? I've heard of stories before. People get thrown from horses and they break a leg or their back, or worse, their neck. I don't want that."

"If you did fall off, you'd be able to stay here with me longer."

"That's a very funny way of asking me to extend my vacation with you. You could've simply said that you wanted to spend more days together instead of insisting that I get on a horse."

Maxim turns around, invading my space, walking closer to me as I take a step back. I'm trapped between his body and the stall door behind me.

As he braces his hands on the railing and looks down at me, he looms closer and closer, the distance closing between us as I think he's about to kiss me.

While sex is off the table, kissing never was.

However, when he backs away, I don't know what to think.

"You're my guest here, Pearl. I would never let anything hurt you. I can assure you that when you get on one of my horses, you're going to be safe and secure."

"I half-expected you to make a joke about going for a ride."

His hazel eyes shift in the sunlight streaming through the skylights. At first glance they're grey, but then they turn green, warm, and bright as he laughs and opens one of the stall doors, gesturing to a horse that's already saddled and ready to go.

"This is Prancer. He's a good old boy and he'll keep up with the hunt, but you don't have to worry about jumping with him. He's too docile to even think about tossing you from the saddle."

"Please tell me you have a horse named Rudolph in here."

"No, but at one point I had most of the other eight reindeer," Maxim smirks, taking my hand and leading me closer to the horse, holding it out flat so the horse can sniff me. "I was an idiot when I was younger, and I made a bet with Nikita. He told me that if I lost this particular bet, my horses would have to be named after Santa's reindeer. I was able to avoid Rudolph, but all of the others were put in here."

I can't help the laugh that escapes me as I run my hand over Prancer's nose. His fur is soft beneath my touch, the short roan strands sliding against my hand.

"Let me help you up," Maxim says. "Put your foot in the stirrup here and grab the pommel. You're going to lift yourself and use your momentum to swing your other leg over. Once you're in the saddle, find a comfortable position."

I do as he says even though I've been on many horses before, Prancer is much taller than all the others. He remains still as I settle myself in the black leather saddle. I love horse riding, and I hope that I don't get too carried away and let my pretentious naivety slide away.

Maxim hands me the reins. "Prancer is an easy horse. He responds to the slightest of touches. If you want him to go, press your heels into his sides gently. If you want him to stop, tug straight back on the reins."

I know that, but internally I'm hoping that I won't make a fool of myself as Maxim leaves to get on another horse. He looks at me when he's seated, and there's something about seeing him on a horse, desire rushing straight to my core, building a warm fire in the bottom of my stomach.

He leads the way out of the barn and down one of the trails into the forest.

The trail is pleasant at first, though it takes some time to find my seating. I rock with Prancer as he walks. The deeper we get into the woods, the more colorful birds I see floating around the treetops. A bunny runs along the path, darting out in front of the horses before disappearing into the bushes, but to my relief, neither of them rear.

Maxim smiles as he looks over at me. "See, I told you that he was a good horse."

"I didn't doubt you for a second. I've no reason to think that you lie to me. At least none that you've given me."

"And yet I have reason to think that you would lie to me about everything, quite frankly. Who you are, what you do for a living. Where your family comes from, what you want out of life. I have no reason to believe that you would tell me the truth about any of it. "

"You know that I'm in escort."

"And I'm the one who had to find that out, you didn't volunteer that information."

"You didn't volunteer the information that you work for the Brava."

"No, I suppose I didn't tell you that. Can you blame me though?" Maxim gives me a charming smile and my gaze drags down his toned arms, biceps bulging as he moves the horse expertly, jumping over a fallen log. His tattoos stand out even more when the muscles flex.

Maybe once, just for one night, I could imagine having those arms wrapped around me.

I nudge my heels into Prancer's side, moving him a little faster, pulling back on the reins, and letting him sail over a little log, joining Maxim on the other side. "Did you think that you weren't going to have to tell me about what you do? Don't you think you should tell the woman you want to sleep with that you're a criminal?"

"You'd be surprised how many women would consider that a turn-off. As you can imagine, I doubt that many women want to know that they're sleeping with a criminal. And even if they do, then they just want me for whatever I can get them. You were the first person who didn't seem to care. Not once did you fawn over me. You didn't ask me for anything."

"Oh, there's still time yet. I might still hold you that trip to Japan."

A muscle flexes in his chiseled jaw. He looks over his shoulder at me. "You might not have to ask."

We enter a clearing, the long grass brushing against Prancer's knees before it gets a bit shorter, chewed down by whatever roams the woods.

Maxim looks over at me with a boyish smirk." We're going to race."

"I told you that I can barely ride, and yet the first thing you think about doing is racing. I'm going to end up getting thrown from the saddle. Is that what you want?"

"I already told you that Prancer isn't going to throw you. Do you trust me?"

There isn't a world in which I should trust Maxim.

And my competitive spirit kicks in.

Before he has the chance to say go, I press my heels against the horse's ribs, pulling the reins tighter. He gives a large swish of his tail before charging forward, ripping through the clearing, and skirting around the fallen trees that line the perimeter.

Maxim thunders after me, the sound of hoof beats pounding against the ground as he draws closer.

"Faster Prancer we have to beat them."

It's as if the horse understands what I'm saying. He runs faster, his neck stretching out as I lean forward and try to align my body with his.

I may not have competed in horse racing, but I know what aerodynamics are and how best to use them. Prancer surges forward, reaching the edge of the clearing seconds before Maxim catches up.

"That was impressive, but if you think I'm ever going to let you beat me again, you've got another thing coming."

"Ego get hurt?"

"No, but this is where we're going to get off and start the hunt. There are plenty of rabbits in this forest and we might see some foxes if you're lucky. Partridges are plentiful too if you can catch one of them. We could have it for dinner."

Maxim slides down from his horse. Taking the rifles he slung on either side of his saddle; he hands one to me before taking the other for himself.

We tie the horses to the tree, keeping their lines loose so they can graze as they please.

He leads the way into the forest, his back to me, and for a moment I think it would be the perfect time to shoot him.

Not a single person would see it coming.

He trusts me with a gun on his back because he doesn't know that he shouldn't.

Hell, I could even let him get through the woods a little bit. Disappear behind him, behind one of the trees before tracking him down like the animal he is.

Nicolo said we had to wait though. He wants to destroy the entire empire that Maxim built for himself before we kill him.

Showing the restraint to not shoot a bastard where he stands is difficult.

But the further he gets ahead of me, the higher I aim the rifle at his back but when my finger wraps around the trigger, I find that I can't squeeze.

It isn't my loyalty that stops me. Not to Nicolo, at least. He would be upset if he knew I had gone against his orders, but in time he would get over that.

No, what stops me is the fact that for the first time in a long time, there's a man who treats me like a woman and not just somebody to be paid. I'm not Maxim's employee. I'm not a piece of arm candy he's showing off to the men around him trying to win favors with.

I'm just a woman when I'm with him. Nothing more, nothing less.

I can almost be myself with him and no doubt he likes that, but I have to keep pretending to be someone I don't want to be–his escort.

I lower the gun, catching up with him and walking alongside him as we go through the forest, leaving through the trees that towered impossibly high over us. A hazy green glow casts through the forest, sunlight filtering through the leaves.

There's a breeze here, but not a strong one. It's only getting hotter as the day goes on, the ground drying out and the world around us becoming still.

It's just when I'm beginning to think that we won't find anything to hunt that there is a rustling from the underbrush. Maxim turns around and presses a finger over his lips before pointing to the bush he thinks the sound is coming from. A small bird darts out in front of us before stopping and picking at the ground. It's two dozen feet away, and though I know I could hit it, I need him to believe that I can't.

I aim for the ground just to the right of the bird, finger wrapping around the trigger. From where Maxim stands it looks like I'm trying to hit the bird. As I squeeze the trigger, I try to react how a person would if it were their first time shooting a rifle. I allow the recoil to kick hard in my shoulder, sending me stumbling back a step.

The bird startles at the sound of the gunshot, the dirt flying when the bullet hits the ground. The bird takes to the air and disappears into the trees, leaving us with nothing.

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Nobody is good at hunting on their first try."

"I don't think we could call that not good at hunting. I think we could call that abysmal effort."

"You'll do better the next time."

I laugh and roll out my shoulder, pretending that the shot hurt me. "I don't know if I'll ever get this stance right."

"It takes some time, but you won't feel it after a few practice rounds."

"Are you willing to hang around with me for a few years?"

He laughs and nods to the right. "Let's go this way. The last time I was out here visiting, there were some hares this way. That should be easy enough to catch if we're able to spot one."

"I don't know about that. The partridge is probably going to find them and tell them that I'm a horrible shot."

His grin grows as he shakes his head. "Well then, that's probably good luck for us. They're all going to gather around and laugh at you, and while the hares are busy pointing and laughing, I'll be able to shoot one."

"You're using me as bait?" I ask, my tone colored with mock disbelief. "I should've known you had ulterior motives for bringing me out here."

"I suppose I am."

"All right. Lead the way. Bait at the ready coming through."

The laugh he gives me makes me feel like I've said the right thing, encouraging him to keep walking and think that this is nothing more than a stroll through the woods with a woman who wants to hunt but hasn't the faintest idea how.

We keep walking until there's another rustle in the bushes. Maxim holds up his hand, motioning for us to stop in place. A brown hare hops out of the bushes, its tail twitching, its ears going wild just upwind from us. Maxim leans his gun against a tree, moving slowly, careful not to make a sound or step on a twig as he positions himself behind me.

His body frames mine as he shows me how to hold the gun, his arms wrapping around me, hands closing over mine. I can feel every inch of his body pressing against mine, the heat seeping through his clothing. There's something about having him behind me that makes me feel safe, even though I know I'm anything but with him.

He wraps my finger on the trigger holding it and helps me aim at the rabbit. When he takes a deep breath in, I inhale too, holding it until he exhales. Our fingers squeeze around the trigger together.

"You did it," he says as the hare falls over. "It looks like we're going to be eating good tonight."

His hands don't fall from my body immediately. Instead, he takes his time skimming his fingers down my arms, along my breasts and waist, landing on my hands. His cock strained against my ass, the bulge digging hard against me.

I should hate it.

Right now, I should tell him to get away from me, to stop putting his body on my body, and to stand as far away as possible. I shouldn't want him to strip me bare and hold me up against the tree pounding into me until I don't even know my own name.

And yet, it's all I can see.

Maxim's breath fans across the back of my ear. "I swear I can feel your heart racing."

"I don't think that's my heart racing. Indigestion, maybe."

He barks out a sharp laugh. "I don't believe that. And I know you don't believe that either. Hell, I bet if I would kiss you right now, you'd never want me to stop."

"I think I've spent enough time trying to risk rabies, thank you. We should get out of the woods and head back to the house."

Maxim turns and nods, grabbing his gun. "All right, if it's back to the house you want to go, it's back to the house we go. But don't think I can't do anything in there that I can't do out here."

"How many times do you think I'll have to remind you about our contract before you finally remember the terms of it?"

"At least a dozen more times, maybe two dozen. Who knows? My teachers will tell you that I didn't listen much in school."

I try to smother a laugh, but I can't. The sound bubbles up out of me.

As I follow him back to where we left the horses, I realize that I like spending time with him. Despite the ruthless killer that he is, right now he is the most pleasant and fun man I've been around in a long time.

He's the devil who tore my family apart, but when it's just the two of us like this it's easy to forget about who he is.

It's effortless to pretend that he's someone he's not, and maybe that I'm someone I'm not as we retreat to the forest, not speaking much to each other, the hare long forgotten.

It takes a few moments to untie the horses from the trees and convince them to stop grazing. But within a couple of moments, we've freed them, the heat of the day beating down upon us, sending loose tendrils of my hair sticking to the back of my neck with sweat.

The dew on the grass this morning is long gone. Pieces of grass scratch my legs as we walk along the trail, leading the horses behind us.

"Do you think it would be faster if we go back to the house by riding?"

"Sure, it would be faster, but are you so eager to escape me?"

"No. I thought it would be better for the two of us to ride. Maybe get a little sweaty," I say, keeping my tongue soft and sultry, luring him in.

It works, lust burning in his gaze as he looks at me. "And here I thought I was the one who needs to be reminded about the contract."

"Maybe I do too."

"Or you're playing games with my head because you think you can because you think that I'm like the other men you've gone out with who are nothing more than boring little fuckers. You believe I'm going to fall for the same tricks used on them? You're going to bat your pretty little eyelashes. Then you blush. Pretend that you're all sweet and innocent. Then you're going to hopefully get what you want. It's just what you want from me I haven't quite figured out yet."

"Well then, I would say that makes two of us. I haven't quite figured out why you want me here."

"I told you, little huntress. I want to get to know you."

"From what I've been told, that's an insurmountable task."

Maxims opens his mouth about to say something when he stops and sniffs the air, his nose twitching, eyes crinkling. "Do you smell that?"

"Smell what?" I pause, tilting my face to the sun and sniffing the air like he does, trying to figure out what scent he's noticed. It's only when the wind shifts and shakes more leaves on the trees that I smell it.

Smoke.

"There's a fire," Maxim says, stopping his horse and getting on. "We need to get back to the house now."

I swing up on Prancer's back, holding tight to the reins and urging him to run fast as the wind picks up. Clouds of smoke choke the air, a bright orange haze starting on the horizon, barely visible through the trees.

The horses race, stretching out, trying to beat the fire as it's growing behind us. Glowing sparks fly in the wind, igniting the dry grass.

Ash burns my eyes, smoke climbing from the grass, lighting more fire around us. Flames spread quickly. The flickering grows. More sparks pop and dance as they land on nearby branches.

There's a gap up ahead between rows of flames that are starting to close in around us.

Maxim looks over his shoulder at me. "We're going to have to jump. You need to follow me. Don't take your eyes off me for a second."

My chest tightens. It feels like somebody's punched the air from my lungs. Breathing is getting harder and harder with the smoke filling the air, but I do as he says, urging Prancer on faster and faster.

It feels like we're inside a fiery inferno, flames trying to lick at my skin even as we outrun the heat. It's only going to be a matter of time before we're caught, but just as we reach the edge of the fire Maxim jumps his horse and Prancer follows.

I glance over my shoulder, but the fire is growing quickly. "We need to keep going faster. Can we get to the lake? Or a river."

"Good thinking. There's a river close to here. Follow me."

Maxim guides his horse hard before sliding into a sprint again. I stay leaned forward in the saddle, stretching out along with the horse. My entire body hurts from trying to hold on while we gallop across the rough terrain.

"Just a little further!" he yells over his shoulder. "Just hold on for a little bit longer."

My chest is rising and falling but I can't get enough oxygen in with the smoke and toxins choking the air. There's nothing that I can do, and I slow Prancer to catch my breath.

Maxim loops back around, riding beside me. "You need to keep going. Come on. We can do this; you just have to make it a little bit further. You can do this."

Gritting my teeth together, I urge Prancer on faster and faster, doing my best to outrun the flames still flicking behind us.

As we ride over the crest of a hill. A small river appears at the bottom. I don't think I've ever felt more relieved in my life.

Maxim leads the charge into the water, not stopping until he's in the middle. He turns and watches me as I guide Prancer down into the current, putting more distance between me and the growing fire. He looks at me, his eyebrows knitting together, worry shining. Beyond the worry, there's something more.

"We make a good team," he says, his voice low and husky, though I'm not sure it's just from the smoke.

"We do," I say, before I launch into a fit of coughing trying to catch my breath. "How are we going to get back to the house? We're trapped on one side, and it looks like the other leads in the wrong direction."

"We can follow the river. It'll take us winding back up to the house and if we get on the other side of the bank fire won't be able to reach us. Not unless this side lights up, but the winds are dying down and we shouldn't have to worry about more sparks for much longer. My men will be racing in soon with water bombers."

"The forest is burning though. It's never going to be the same."

"Sometimes you have to set things on fire to watch what flourishes in its wake."

And for just a moment, as we crossed the other side of the river, I think he might be talking about us.