16. Elira

16

ELIRA

W hen I lay my head down for the night, I'm content, with the most peace I've felt since leaving Albania.

It isn't real peace. I couldn't begin to know what true peace feels like. But it's better than fear of someone sneaking into Maksim's bed in the middle of the night. It's an inkling of safety.

Anya loves me.

I smile at the thought, my mind taking me to the mall today. She used her brother's credit card to buy me enough things that Daniel's wife's clothing is now obsolete. I've never spent so frivolously in my life, and I could lie here with my lip curled, pretending the overconsumption disgusts me, but not today. Today, I feel like royalty. Today, I feel great . Even within this shitty existence.

Breathing in, I no longer smell Maksim on the freshly-washed pillowcase. In the morning it'll be my own scent rubbed off on the satin, as if this is my bed. For a moment, I pretend that it is. For a moment, Anya is my sister and today was one of many outings to look forward to. I'll be sending Mami a check tomorrow and a photo for Asher just to tease.

It's a nice fantasy. But, of course, Maksim has to ruin it.

The bedroom door opens, announcing his arrival, and I sit up in bed, tugging the comforter to my neck. He showered a while ago, so he's in athletic shorts and a white T-shirt now like he's about to go play futbol.

"What do you want?" I ask, my tone sharp and accusatory.

He shuts the door and glares at me before strutting to the bed. "What do you mean, what do I want? This is my room."

He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the tattoo across his pec and enough muscle to make me uncomfortably look away.

"Aren't you sleeping on the couch?"

He huffs, but it isn't obnoxious like normal. It's muted, like he's afraid Anya might hear. "Six hours of marriage, and I'm already in the doghouse?"

Now I look at him, my head tilted with curiosity.

So… Anya told him. I'm surprised. Not that she told him, but that he didn't bring it up sooner or that he doesn't seem angry. After what looked like a heartfelt conversation, the two siblings came inside and we ate together at the table, listening to Anya ramble about our day. Maksim was noticeably quiet. I kept searching for signs of anger but saw none.

Maksim throws back the sheet, revealing my camisole and baby blue velvet shorts in the process. I quickly cover up. He seems to notice my discomfort by the look he gives me but says nothing as he climbs into bed next to me and rests his arm behind his head on a pillow.

"You're a clever girl, Elira," he says, his voice smooth enough to send a tingle running across my shoulders. "Telling my sister we're married so that you're harder to get rid of… Now if my wife suddenly disappears, I'll have explaining to do."

Leaning back against the headboard, I run my hand over my knee. "Believe it or not, Maksim, my own safety had little to do with it."

His head lazily turns my way like he isn't convinced but is going to hear me out anyway. He thinks the worst of me. I can see that. I suppose I think the worst of him too.

I hold up my left hand to draw his attention to Daniel's wife's ring. "She saw this and assumed you gave it to me… Should I have told her the truth?"

He says nothing, just stares at me, waiting for my explanation. I can see it on his face. See him waiting for my ulterior motive. For some reason, it stings.

"I went with the explanation that made you look the best."

"Why?" he asks, his eyes narrowing with skepticism. It's a fair question.

I shift the comforter for no other reason than to busy myself while breaking eye contact. My heart swells thinking of Asher, my fantasy of bringing her a better life vaporized. In reality, I'll probably never see her again, never speak to her. And I damn sure wouldn't want her to see a picture of this.

"She reminds me of someone I know… It seemed like she was hurt by the idea of you not telling her about me, and I didn't want to make her pain worse."

I don't look at Maksim, instead choosing to keep my eyes forward. I can picture his skeptical face and nearly hear the condescending tone of his voice before he speaks his next words.

"Thank you."

My eyes widen in surprise at the softness in his voice, so soft it was barely audible. When I turn his way, it's him who isn't looking at me. Instead, he stares at the ceiling. I've seen him serious, but I've never seen him this soft.

"I didn't do it for you," I say because I have to. I don't want to fight, but I don't know how ready I am for a truce. "You let me squeeze myself inside a trunk for hours at a time out of fear for a roommate who didn't exist."

His eyes close as he sighs. "You took the wedding ring of your trafficker's dead mistress after you brutally murdered her… In hindsight, bringing you here at all was beyond reckless, but forgive me for at least taking precautions for my sister's sake."

His fist, lazily tucked beneath the blanket, connects with my gut without ever moving. I bite my lip and suck in a breath through my nose to quell the sudden blow. His opinion, of all people's, shouldn't matter, but…

That woman, Daniel's mistress, apparently, was not innocent. She stood there, watching Daniel strangle me, and if I hadn't pulled a knife, she would've let me die.

I play with the ring on my finger, suddenly feeling ridiculous for taking it. If that wasn't his wife, then this isn't even his ring. And now, because of my lie, I'm stuck with it. Stuck with a false ring in a false marriage with a man who believes I'd harm an innocent teenage girl.

Does he really believe I'd hurt her?

The shame twisting my gut suddenly releases as anger takes hold. If he was afraid for her safety, he would have killed me. No person would put their sibling in harm's way. I'd slit Maksim's throat in a heartbeat if he went near mine.

"You're so full of shit," I growl, his eyes snapping open when my voice climbs high. "Terrifying me over a fake roommate was never about safety . You didn't want Anya to find out your dirty little secret, you asshole."

"Okay." He sits up, holding his hands up as if to pacify me. His eyes dart to the door every other second. "Calm down."

" Do not . Do fucking not tell me to calm down."

"Elira."

"Admit it." I whip toward him fully, my chin high and arms crossing over my chest. "You lie constantly . For once in your life, I want you to admit the truth. Then I will calm down." A surge of power races through me that feels like a high I'll never stop chasing. It didn't cross my mind until now just how powerful a position it puts me in, having Anya in the next room, but the frantic way Maksim looks toward the door makes it obvious.

He cares what she thinks. She is his weak spot. His Achilles heel. His…

My eyes widen as I realize it.

Be a good girl, Elira. You know what men want.

Maksim doesn't want a whore. He doesn't even want a woman to claim. He doesn't crave power. All the preconceived notions I've had about men have gotten me nowhere with him.

But now, finally , I know what he wants.

Her .

And with the way she was talking today, he has no clue how to bond with a teenage girl. From what I saw at dinner… He's hopeless.

"Okay." He nods, his hands still raised, his voice low. "That was a lie, I'm sorry. I just…"

I shift to sit on my heels. "You just what?"

His eyes close. Finally, I think he's about to tell the truth. "My relationship with Anya is holding on by a thread, and I don't know how much more it can survive."

There's pain etched into his face that sobers my anger, along with the surge of power. I relax my posture, sinking into the mattress and slumping my shoulders as I watch his inner turmoil move to the surface. I get the strange urge to touch the lines of his face, as if it'd let me feel the vulnerability within, and it hits me out of nowhere just how human he is. Feelings and all.

"Today was the first day she's hugged me in…" he stares off like he's trying to recall the last time, "a long time." He looks at me, his eyes holding a humanity that makes me shrink. I thought I wanted honesty, but this is… Life is easy when we dehumanize each other. When we reduce each other to future victims, to objects to conquer. What he's doing right now is messy.

"I don't know what your reasoning was," he goes on. "Whether it was selfish or if you really did give a shit about my sister's feelings or something else, but … she likes you. A lot. And she likes the version you painted of me… If you keep this going, at least for a while, I'll give you whatever you want."

" Whatever I want?" I ask, my throat closing and heart quickening.

He nods. "I'll personally drive you to the airport."

My lips part, but I force my excitement to stay locked inside a box in my heart. This is Maksim, the crusher of dreams. He could be lying. He's probably lying.

I swallow. "You're saying I can go home."

He looks up and scratches the back of his neck while I stare intently, my hands gripping the comforter while forcing my breathing to stay even. He's lying. Right now, he's coming up with another lie.

"Eventually, yeah." He brings his eyes back to me. "Obviously, this isn't something I can force you to do. But…" He looks away again, lost for words.

I think I get it.

"You want me to help you repair your relationship with your sister."

"No." He snaps back to me, but then his shoulders fall. "I mean, I don't know how you could possibly do that."

My lips lift at the nervous way he rubs at his arm, the slight blush in his cheeks. Maksim, the man I watched casually clean up a dead body, is nervous, maybe even embarrassed.

"By talking you up and making you seem like a world class husband."

He lets out a stilted laugh, not looking at me. "I wouldn't get too carried away."

"Maksim."

He rests his hands at his sides as he looks at me. The nervous edge to his features settles at the seriousness in my voice.

I take my time speaking, my eyes pinned to him. "What you're asking me to do is not nearly as difficult as you think it is… But I won't help you for another second without some assurances that you aren't going to fuck me over."

He raises his hand. "I give you my word."

"Your word is not going to cut it for me." I lift my chin. "I need more than that."

His eyes narrow as if he's confused. "Like what?"

When my mouth dries, I run my tongue along the roof of my mouth, searching for moisture. I did not anticipate having this much power, but I know exactly what I want to do with it. It's the same thing I wanted when I came to America. Never could I have predicted that I'd actually get it.

"I want a bank account in my name and my name only that has monthly, automatic transfers set up to my mother's account. I want you to allow me employment and also match what I earn." I suck in a breath and continue before I can judge his reaction. "I want to be allowed a cell phone, regular access to communication with my family, and a plane ticket to visit them in three months… If you grant those things, I will trust that when the time comes for us to cut ties, you will do so without putting a bullet in my back."

He raises a brow and stares like he's waiting for me to go on. "Is that it?"

Should I ask for more?

I blink, searching my mind for what else I could ask for, but he interrupts before I can find something.

"I have a few requests of my own."

I shake my head. "You don't get to make requests."

He laughs. "You finally have some bargaining power, kid, I'll give you that. But let's not pretend I have more on the line than you do. We're talking your freedom versus my relationship with a moody teenager here."

"That," I point at him, "is a bluff. That's another thing I want. Honesty ."

He rolls his eyes. "Are you telling me I'm wrong?"

My lips pinch as I consider it. No. No, he isn't wrong.

"Fine. What do you want?"

He takes a moment to smirk before replying. "Your employment must be at one of the Bratva's businesses. It'll be easier that way. I'll be able to adjust your schedule and pay you under the table so we can avoid the annoyances that come with you being an illegal immigrant. Plus, I like to be able to keep an eye on you." He winks, the playful, obnoxious Maksim returning. To my surprise, I'm not immediately annoyed.

"Fair enough," I say.

"I want us to sleep in the bed together."

I shake my head. "I'll sleep on the floor."

"Ah, so no deal?"

When my eyes constrict, he smiles like he's amused. Again, I'm not annoyed. It's weird.

" Fine ."

He nods victoriously, but then his composure falls some. He looks like he's about to ask me for something serious. "I want us to start over…"

His eyes implore me with such intensity that I look away. I saw him first as my enemy, then as a tool with such ferocity that the idea of seeing him as anything else seems wrong.

"Look, you don't like me. I get that," he says. "I'm not a big fan of yours either."

"Wow, thank you."

" But all the fighting we do in private is going to bleed into times we're supposed to look … you know, happy. I think we should try to become friends."

I almost laugh. "You're gonna make me puke."

He goes to smile but then changes his mind, rubbing his jaw instead. "I don't know, maybe that's too much to ask."

Yes.

Probably.

But… We could try.

It's a much better situation than I was in yesterday. Or even hours ago.

I tuck my hair behind my ears and twist my lips as I consider it, consider him . I don't think it would be easy. Too much has happened. Too many unkind things have been said, too many threats have been made.

But… There are a million things I want to experience in this country, starting with this city.

I could use a friend.

With a sigh, I hold out my hand, and Maksim stares down at it with his brow furrowed.

"Hi," I say, my voice as awkward as you could imagine. "I'm Elira."