27. Chapter 27

twenty-seven

Leonid

" E y, pakhan ." Maksim turns his gaze toward me. The Rolls-Royce Phantom purrs like a jungle cat as he pushes the pedal to the floor, the dark road ahead swallowed by the high beams. I don’t look at him.

“You know that we’re not going to the usual ‘play place.’ Right?” With a sly grin, he tosses a question my way as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

I cut my eyes at him, my jaw tighter than a virgin’s pizda . “I know that, mudak. Got a different plan for our little ‘guest’ this time.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “Guest? That’s what we’re calling the suka in the trunk now? Because last I checked, guests don’t usually come with a side of chloroform and cable ties.”

“ Blyat , you questioning me again, svoloch ?” I snarl. “I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“Do you now?” Maksim cocks a brow, the disrespectful khuy . “’Cause looks to me like you’re letting little Leonid do the thinking for you, brat .”

My fingers twitch, debating whether to draw my gun on Maksim right here. But that’s not an option—I can’t afford to lose my underboss, and there’s no one else I trust behind the wheel.

“Just shut up and drive.”

“I saw how you looked at her earlier,” he goes on. “Like a golodny dog drooling over a fresh cut of myaso. You want to sink your teeth into that, don’t you? Eat her until she’s nothing but kosti. ”

I grind my teeth so hard, I’m amazed they don’t crack. Blyat , he’s not wrong. My mind has been consumed by her from the moment she entered my vision. All I can focus on is plunging into her tight little cunt until she begs for mercy.

The memory of her beneath me flashes through my head—the taste of her skin, the scent of her arousal, the breathy little moans she made as I worked her over. Blyat , I’m rock hard just thinking about it. I shift in my seat, trying to ease the pressure on my aching khuy .

But like hell I’ll let Maksim see she’s got me by the balls. I’m the Pakhan , the big boss.

“Shut up. I just want to make her talk,” I snap. “She knows something, and I’ll get it out of her. One way or another.”

Maksim whistles low. “Something tells me you don’t mean the usual tools. Pliers, blowtorch, all that der’mo .”

“All I know is she’s more than just an assassin,” I mutter, straining my ears for any sound from the trunk. Nothing. The chloroform’s doing its job. I side-eye Maksim, who’s wearing that shit-eating grin I’d love to wipe off his face. “She knew exactly where I’d be.”

Maksim takes the turn with the urgency of a snail on vacation. I know he’s just as curious about our guest as I am. It’s not every day someone manages to get the jump on me the way she did. I’m almost impressed.

Almost.

We approach the gate, and Maksim slows down, rolling down his window. I watch him punch in the code. No guards here. I don’t trust anyone I can buy with money. Tech doesn’t have a price, doesn’t have a family to threaten. The cameras are enough.

We sit in silence as the gate creaks open. Maksim breaks it first.

“You know, you could’ve made this place look more haunted. Maybe some hand-carved ravens perched on the fence posts?”

I scoff. “Yeah, great idea. Why don’t I just put up a neon sign saying, ‘The Raven’s Boss Lives Here’?”

Maksim shrugs and starts up the hill. Suddenly, he floors it. There’s a loud thump from the trunk.

He smirks at me. “Oops.”

Before I can stop myself, I’m twisting around, staring at the trunk. Fuck .

Motherfucker. I flick a glance at Maksim, my eyes narrowing into slits.

Maksim flashes me a cheeky smirk, knowing damn well it’ll get under my skin. He knows exactly how to push my buttons. My fists clench at my sides.

“She’s the first woman you’ve brought here, you know,” Maksim tells me.

“No, Kayla was the first,” I snap.

Maksim snorts. “Didn’t know you viewed your head maid as a ‘woman.’ Should I be worried about competition?”

I’m about to lose it. My hand twitches toward my gun. “One more word, Maksim, and I swear—”

We round the corner, and the house comes into view. It’s a sleek, modern monstrosity of glass and steel. The garage door slides open silently as we approach, revealing a private elevator.

“Home sweet home,” Maksim mutters. He steers the Rolls-Royce into an empty spot next to my Bugatti Chiron. Before he kills the engine, he turns to me with a raised eyebrow.

“Want me to soften her up a bit first? You know, get her ready for your special brand of hospitality?”

I shake my head. “Leave her. I’ll handle it.”

Maksim shrugs and opens his door. “Suit yourself. Though, I gotta say, you’re usually not this… gentle with our guests.”

I step out of the car, slamming the door harder than necessary. “You implying something, Maksim?”

He holds up his hands, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. “Me? Never. Just making an observation.”

I roll my eyes.

We walk to the elevator, our footsteps echoing in the cavernous garage. Maksim presses his thumb to the scanner, and the doors slide open with a soft hiss.

“So,” he says as we step inside, “what’s for supper? I’m thinking something light. Maybe some borscht, a side of knuckle sandwich for our new friend?”

I lean against the wall, crossing my arms.

“I think you should go look for food somewhere else tonight.”

Maksim’s eyebrows shoot up. “Kicking me out already? And here I thought we were having a moment.”

I flip him off as the elevator doors open. “Fuck off, Maksim.”

“Ouch.” He places a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “You wound me, Pakhan . After all we’ve been through?”

“You’ll survive.”

Maksim steps out of the elevator, then turns back. “You sure you don’t want me to stay? I make a mean borscht. Our guest might appreciate a last meal.”

My jaw clenches. “I said fuck off.”

“Fine, fine.” He holds up his hands. “But don’t come crying to me when you’re hungry at 3 AM. I won’t answer.”

“I think I’ll manage.”

Maksim starts walking away, then pauses. “Oh, one more thing.”

“ Chto ?” I growl.

He grins. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That leaves a lot of options open, mudak .”

“Exactly.” He winks, heading toward his bike. “Have fun, boss!”

I watch him leave, shaking my head. The garage falls silent as the roar of his Kawasaki fades into the distance.

Turning back to the car, I take a deep breath. Time to deal with our… guest .

My heart hammers thinking about her.

Snap out of it, mudak.

I’m halfway to the trunk when a muffled thump echoes through the garage. Then another. And another.

“ Blyat ,” I mutter.

The thumps grow louder, more insistent. A muffled scream follows, filled with rage and frustration.

Looks like someone’s not happy about being kept waiting.

So, more waiting for her. I spin around and head for the lift.