Chapter 17

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

NATASHA

I slipped out of the living room, but still, I wanted to chat with Max. The house was almost too quiet, even with all the people gathered in it, and I craved a moment away from the tension that clung to every corner. My footsteps were soft against the hardwood floors as I made my way to the back of the house and away from the men gathered around the screens. I pushed open the heavy glass door leading to the private courtyard I loved. I needed to get away from those monitors — I needed a break.

The cool evening air greeted me, a welcome contrast to the heavy atmosphere inside. The courtyard was enclosed, surrounded by high stone walls that offered privacy and a sense of security. It was one of the reasons this spot was my favorite—a place where I could think without interruption. Nobody came here, not even Enzo and Luca. Although there were windows on the other side of the courtyard, there was visibility.

The soft rustle of leaves and the bubble of the fountain were the only sounds as I crossed the courtyard to the table and chair near the center. A light scent of jasmine filled the air, mingling with the faint traces of smoke from the nearby chiminea. I thought about lighting it but decided against it. I wasn't sure how long I could hide away out here. Rubbing my palms against my arms, I tried to ignore the chill I felt. I sat, pulled my phone from my pocket, and dialed Max's number. He picked up almost immediately. My cousin had become one of those sounding boards I relied on to calm me instantly. It might also have to do with the fact that he had rescued us in my life when I was young and naive—when I couldn't do it for myself.

"Nat," he greeted me, sounding concerned. "Thank fuck you called," he growled.

"Hey, Max," I said, leaning back to look at the stars that dotted the night sky. "The house is... tense," I admitted. "I was going to call and check in with you earlier, but I couldn't get away." Generally, I spoke to Max several times for work or to talk about what was happening in my day or with Ronnie. Since I moved, this new dynamic hadn't allowed me to do that. Well, that wasn't true. I'd been distracted with Pike and with the case. Grrr. Not the case. I had to be honest. Pike was the distraction. I needed to do better and make sure my family didn't slip by the wayside. I owed Max a lot.

"I can imagine," Max replied, his voice laced with a hint of worry, making me feel bad. He was overprotective, but I would have thought he'd feel good about us being with Dimitri. At least he hadn't smothered me and given me too much shit about not calling. We were safe here. We also had Enzo and Luca, two of his right-hand men. "This situation with Victor sounds dangerous."

"It is," I admitted, letting out a slow breath. "But we're handling it. I just wanted to keep you in the loop in case things get... complicated."

"I appreciate that, Natty," he said, his tone softening. "You know I don't like you in danger. I get that you need to do your job, but this sort of shit is something else." His voice took on another edge. I did understand what he meant. "You're my family."

"I know," I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. "But this is my choice. I can handle it, Max. I promise."

There was a brief pause, and I could hear the concern in his silence. Finally, he spoke again, his voice more composed. "If you need anything—backup, resources—you let me know. I'll make sure you have what you need." He huffed out a breath. "I know that dumbass knows it, but I needed you to hear it from me too."

"Thank you," I replied, feeling a warmth in my chest at his support. "I know you're talking about your poor brother, but I would tell you if I needed something."

The conversation shifted then, Max's concern giving way to something more businesslike. "Natty, there's something else I wanted to discuss with you. I promised you that I would never sign anything without you looking it over," he hesitated, and I instantly knew this wasn't the normal situation. I'm making a deal with the Irish Nat. We've been having issues with them, and this'll be the way." His voice was laced with distaste.

I straightened slightly, my mind switching gears. "Alright. What's the deal?"

"You'll see. Part of it involves a property dispute in New York," he explained, his tone all business now. "The other part is a little more complicated. I need you to look at legal angles and see if I missed anything. I don't want this escalating into something... messier. It's a favor owed. That's all," he said curtly. "O'Kelly is an asshole, but he's a decent sort, and there wasn't any way to get out of this." He sounded resigned, and I couldn't wait to see what this involved. Max sounded cagey, and I couldn't figure out why he wasn't more upfront since I would see everything anyway unless he didn't want to argue about it. I was known for speaking my mind about some of the shit he got into.

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "I'll start reviewing the details tonight. Send me everything you have, and I'll get to work."

"Already done," Max said. "You'll have the files in your inbox when you open your laptop. It shouldn't be complicated. Guy is a pain in the ass more than anything. I need your eyes on it, and then, if you can, contact him. You know. Do your magic. Finalize the property deal and send things for us to sign."

"No problem," I replied, feeling that familiar sense of purpose settled over me. I thrived on having a task, and that was precisely what I needed right now. "I'll take care of it."

"I know you will," Maxim said, his voice carrying a note of pride. "You've always been one of the people I trust, Natasha. Don't think I don't appreciate everything you do."

"Thank you," I said, my voice soft. "That means a lot, Max." He didn't praise people lightly, even me, so when he did, I stored the moments up so I could take them out later when I needed a pick-me-up.

"Just make sure you stay safe," he added, a note of concern creeping back into his voice. "This situation with Victor... I don't like it. If things start to get out of hand, you call me. You and Ronnie mean everything to me. I couldn't bear it if something happened to either of you." I could practically picture him. He was probably pacing his office, one hand gripping the phone and one hand tearing at his hair. Chuckling, I promised, knowing that I meant it. If things spiraled, Max would be the first person I called on the phone, at least. Funnily enough, I had people I trusted to take care of things here. "Take care, Max."

Once upon a time, there hadn't been anyone I felt I could count on. Mother was barely holding on by a thread. She tried her best, but when Ronnie got sick, the only solution I could see was dropping out of school to be there for her. I hadn't been sure if I was going to kill my mother or hug her when she said she'd brought us back into the Volkov's circle. In the end, it had been the answer to many things. It hadn't made Ronnie better, but it had made things more comfortable. We'd been able to lean on someone for things we needed. People said money couldn't buy you love, and while that was true, it sure as fuck could buy a lot of medical care. The best the Bratva could buy. I didn't care if I came soaked in blood. I would be eternally grateful and never judge Max after he opened his wallet and eventually his heart to my sister and me. He never quite took to my mother, but I couldn't fault him for that.

"You too, Natty," he replied before hanging up.

I lowered the phone, staring at the darkened screen for a moment before slipping it back into my pocket. The courtyard was still and quiet, contrasting what was happening inside the house even though I couldn't hear anything. But I felt more settled now; earlier, I had felt unmoored with the tension that was ratcheting up every second. At least now I had work to do. I could focus on that and not worry about the things happening in the house. That wasn't my specialty.

?

I opened my laptop and clicked on the file Max sent. My eyes widened as I scanned the documents. A marriage agreement between Maxim Volkov and the Irish mob. What the actual hell? My hands tightened around the laptop's edges as I reread the title, half-expecting my eyes to play tricks on me. Max, my fierce, independent cousin who had always lived by his own rules, was binding himself to someone through marriage? And not just anyone—a member of the Irish mob. The shock hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I just stared at the screen, trying to understand what I was seeing.

Arranged marriages weren't unheard of in our world, but they were rare, remnants of an older time when alliances were forged through blood and vows. I'd seen others in our circles enter such agreements, but I had never imagined that Max would be one of them. This man had stepped in and done what a father would have done, pulled Ronnie and me through a hellish time that we barely survived, and sworn never to let anything—or anyone—control his fate. And now, here he was, voluntarily tying himself to someone else for the sake of a deal. It didn't make sense.

My mind raced with questions. Why would Max agree to this? What kind of leverage did the Irish have over him to make him consider such a drastic step? The Maxim Volkov, I knew, would never allow himself to be cornered into something like this unless there was no other choice—or the stakes were higher than I could imagine.

The paperwork was detailed, listing a piece of property—a graveyard, of all things—that would be included in the deal. I barely registered the words as I read them, too caught up in the absurdity of everything. A graveyard. What significance did that hold for Max or the Irish? It felt symbolic, like burying something old to make way for the new, but I couldn't shake the unease settling in my chest. This wasn't just a business transaction but a binding commitment, merging two powerful families in a way that would have far-reaching consequences.

I tried to picture Max going through with this, standing at the altar with someone he didn't love—couldn't possibly love, given how quickly this must have been arranged—Maxim with a wife that wasn't even Bratva, but … Irish. I chuckled. Wait until Dimitri found out. He would have an absolute field day teasing his brother. Still, the idea made my stomach twist in knots.

I needed answers, but I also needed to ensure everything was in order. Shoving down my personal feelings, I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. I might disagree with Max's decision, but as his lawyer and his cousin, it was my job to ensure this went off without a hitch. If he was determined to go through with this, the least I could do was ensure he wasn't entering a legal nightmare.

But first, there was one point I needed to clarify. The deed to the property was in the name of O'Kelly's mother. I needed to confirm that it was legitimately his to give away. With a sigh, I grabbed my phone and pulled up the contact for O'Kelly, the Irish mob boss. A quick FaceTime call should clear this up.

He answered after a few rings, his stern face appearing on the screen. I'd met him a few times at various functions that I'd gone to with Max. He was an intimidating-looking man with a scar that bisected down through one cheek and eyes that were glacial. Conall O'Kelly was always polite to my sister and me, so I couldn't fault him, regardless of whether he scared me a little.

"Ms. Petrova, good evenin' to ye. Maxim assured me I'd be hearin' from ye soon. Thanks for making the time for me." The Irish brogue in his voice rolled through my airpods. I wouldn't deny I loved that accent.

"Mr. O'Kelly," I greeted him, trying to keep my voice steady and businesslike. "Thanks for taking my call." I could see that he was at his desk, obviously working despite the lateness of the hour, and stereotypically, there was a decanter of whiskey next to him. I should ask for his whiskey recommendation. "I'm reviewing the documents and need to clarify a point primarily on the property deed." Although I was itching to ask him about the marriage arrangement between Max and the O'Kelly girl, I held my tongue. "It's in your mother's name. I need to make sure if there will need to be special paperwork done." I hedged a little, hoping he'd give me a simple answer, but I wasn't holding my breath. It sure seemed like mobsters, and their deathbed wishes weren't written down anywhere but in blood and tears.

O'Kelly's expression darkened, but he nodded. "Aye, it's mine. I inherited it after she passed. It's all legitimate." His face twisted in a mocking grin and raised in a mocking salute. "If'n that's a concern."

Something in his tone made me pause, but before I could question it, I noticed his gaze flickering back to his screen, and his eyes narrowed as if he'd seen something off. "Is everything alright?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

His eyes snapped back to mine, the momentary distraction gone. "Aye, nothin' to worry about, Ms. Petrova. Just a bit of a reflection on the screen. Thought I saw somethin'. Must've been a trick of the light." He pulled something from his pocket and opened it so I could see. A switchblade. He opened, closed, and jabbed it to the left once and then twice.

I frowned, the unease in my gut deepening. "Alright, then. I'll finish the review and get back to you with the final documents for signing."

"Thank you, Natasha. I will phone Maxim and let him know you called. It is important that you proceed with caution," he said, his tone returning to its gruff but respectful norm. Stoic. Chills erupted over my body. Something was wrong. He was trying to tell me something.

"Take care," I said, ending the call. I was about to return to my work when something caught my eye. In the reflection of my laptop screen, I saw movement—just a shadow, a flicker. My heart skipped a beat as I slowly turned my head, trying to keep my breath steady.

A figure stood by the stone wall in the courtyard's dim light, partially hidden in the shadows. My breath hitched as recognition hit me like a cold wave—Victor. This must be him. We'd calculated it all wrong. He was here, in the courtyard, watching me.

A surge of adrenaline flooded my veins as I realized just how close he was. My mind raced with possibilities—what did he want? How long had he been there? And most importantly, how had he gotten this close without anyone noticing? The roof, maybe?

I quickly shut the laptop, the snap of it breaking the heavy silence. I couldn't let him see the fear that skittered along my spine. I stood slowly, trying to keep my composure, and met his gaze head-on. His eyes were dark and unreadable, sending a shiver down my spine. He was slim, with blond hair slicked against his head, almost skeletal, and he looked like an absolute psycho.

"Hello."