Chapter 8

Maxim

For a moment, it was quiet between us, and I caught myself staring into Riley's pretty blue eyes as she gazed back into mine.

Of all the details of her story she'd shared with me, one thing stood out more than all the rest.

She'd never had anyone take proper care of her before.

I wanted to be the first person to step forward.

I inhaled sharply through clenched teeth, and when she looked up, I offered a tight smile, my jaw tensing. She cocked her head, and I looked down at my plate and scooped another bite of eggs into my mouth. I was just finishing my breakfast when my phone rang in my pocket.

I pulled it out to see Ivan's name flashing on the screen. I swiped and answered as quickly as I could, knowing whatever it was would be important. Ivan only called when the news couldn't wait, which meant that whatever this was probably good either.

"Maxim." Ivan's voice came through, and I didn't like how it was tinged with noticeable urgency. "I've got something on Gregor Orlov you need to know."

"Just a second," I answered.

I stood up, quietly excused myself, and strode out of the room before I spoke again.

"Go ahead." I dictated.

"I did a deep dive into Orlov's background. Turns out he wasn't just some low-level thug—he was the nephew of Mikhail Orlov, the kingpin of the Orlov bratva. And not just any nephew, but his chosen successor."

My blood ran cold at the implications. Mikhail Orlov was notorious for his iron grip on his operations and his unforgiving response to any threats to his power. His ruthless reputation preceded him.

"Are you certain?" I said softly, my anxiety spiking inside my chest.

"Absolutely. I've cross-referenced everything. There's no doubt about his lineage or his position. Gregor's death is going to cause ripples, Maxim. Really fucking dangerous ones."

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying to work through my anger, fear, and frustration.

"Fuck! If Mikhail sees Gregor's death as an act of aggression…"

"It won't just be seen as aggression, it will be all-out war," Ivan interjected grimly. "You need to prepare for retaliation. In the meantime, I can keep digging, see if I can intercept any communications about moves against you or Riley."

"Do it. And Ivan, stay on the down low. If Mikhail suspects we're onto him, it'll only escalate things."

"Understood," Ivan responded.

"Thanks, brother. Keep me posted."

I hung up the phone and cursed under my breath. This had the potential to really blow up in our faces.

Riley was even more at risk than I thought. I couldn't stand the thought of anything happening to her, and if the Orlov bratva was out for blood, it was a good bet that her head would be the first one on the chopping block.

I needed to strengthen our defenses, call a family meeting, and brace for what lay ahead. This was no longer about protecting a single life—it was about averting war. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for the calls I needed to make.

The peace of the morning was officially over.

I looked back to the kitchen where Riley was still sitting and swore under my breath.

Keeping her safe was going to be much harder than I thought, but I would do everything in my power to make sure she stayed alive.

Even if that meant keeping her here as my prisoner after all.

The afternoon had waned into evening, and I sighed, reviewing the new security protocols with Sergei for the third time in my study.

We needed to be careful.

Moreso, we needed to be hypervigilant. Riley's life depended on it.

When the perimeter alarms silently alerted me to an arrival at the gates of my estate, I tensed and then my phone buzzed with a notification from the front cameras.

I tapped the screen, my pulse quickening as the live feed displayed several black SUVs lined up outside, engines idling, dark tinted windows concealing who was inside, but I had a distinct feeling that I already knew who it was.

Shit was hitting the fan already.

"Looks like we have company," I murmured, standing up. Sergei followed suit, his jawline tense with anticipation.

"Orlov's men?" he asked, hand instinctively going to the gun holstered under his jacket.

"Most likely," I replied, eyes fixed on the screen. "Let's see what they want."

We made our way to the front door, my mind racing through various scenarios. This could be a show of power, a negotiation, or a prelude to an attack. Mikhail Orlov was known for his brutal efficiency and lack of subtlety in the way he conducted business. If he already knew I was responsible for Gregor's death, this visit would hardly be a courtesy call.

As I opened the door, I was greeted by the sight of three large men stepping out of the lead vehicle. They approached with deliberate slowness, their suits doing little to conceal their bulky physiques.

Apparently, Mikhail had sent his enforcers, likely to try to scare me, but I didn't scare easily.

He'd learn that soon enough.

The leader, a tall man with a scar tracing down his left cheek, stopped a few feet away from the doorstep.

"Maxim Morozov?" His voice was deep, carrying a heavy Russian accent.

"That's me," I confirmed, standing my ground. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We are here on behalf of Mikhail Orlov," the man stated, his voice carrying a hint of a threat. "He sends his regards and a message."

"And the message is?" I prompted. I lifted my chin and squared my shoulders, presenting myself as a calm, brave front.

I wasn't going to let them intimidate me.

"That the death of his nephew will not go unanswered," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Mikhail Orlov expects retribution or compensation. And he is not a man who enjoys waiting."

I assessed him coolly before I spoke.

"Tell Mikhail that I am not a man who is threatened lightly either. If it is peace he wants, then peace he shall have. If it is war, he will find I am more than prepared."

The man's eyes flicked to Sergei and then back to me. "We will relay your message."

This was far from over, and every move from here on out would need to be precise and calculated.

I needed to show them that I had backbone, and that I wasn't a man to be trifled with either.

"Do that," I replied. As they turned to leave, I added, "And let Mikhail know he's welcome to discuss this in person, should he prefer diplomacy to threats."

"I will relay that as well," the leader answered.

The enforcers spun sharply on their heels, their movements coordinated and deliberate as they marched back to their SUVs. The lead vehicle's door closed with a definitive thud, and I breathed a sigh of restrained anger.

This was going to be even bigger than I imagined.

Sergei and I stood together on the porch, silently watching as the convoy of SUVs slowly pulled away. The headlights cut through the twilight, casting long, flickering shadows across our faces as the vehicles made their slow retreat down the long drive. The low rumble of the engines faded into the evening, leaving a dense silence in their wake.

Once the lights had disappeared, Sergei turned to me, his expression grave. "We need to act quickly," he stated, urgency lacing his voice.

I nodded, my jaw set firm. "Agreed. First, reinforce the perimeter. I want to double the guards at every entry point. No one gets in or out without thorough vetting."

Sergei was already on his phone, issuing commands to our security team. When he was done, he turned back to me.

"I'll have the new shifts set up within the hour. What about electronic surveillance?" he asked.

"Increase the frequency of patrols around the perimeter with drones," I instructed. "I want real-time feeds on all potential blind spots. And tell Ivan to enhance our digital monitoring. I need more men on this."

"And the internal security?" Sergei asked, his eyes briefly meeting mine as he looked back toward the mansion.

"Additional cameras in the common areas and sensors at all major access points inside. Also, let's implement a new verification protocol for everyone entering the compound," I instructed, my voice grim.

Sergei nodded, his fingers rapidly moving over his phone. "Consider it done."

With his assurance, I turned and walked back into my home, and the only thing on my mind was Riley.

I'd hinted at the danger she was in this morning, but this was so much bigger than I had initially thought.

I had to find her. I needed to see that she was alright.

It was late, and the house was silent except for the soft hum of my security systems at work.

Turning the corner into the living room, I found her fast asleep on the couch, the glow from the TV bathing her peaceful face in soft light. The credits of some movie were rolling on the screen. I shut it off and then turned back to her.

She looked vulnerable and yet so serene.

So beautiful…

For a moment, I stood there, watching her sleep, overwhelmed by a wave of protectiveness and something much deeper that I hesitated to name. She stirred slightly, her brow furrowing as if sensing my presence, and then relaxed again. A small sigh escaped her lips and it pulled at something inside me.

My heartstrings unraveled just the tiniest bit and I struggled to tie them back together.

Carefully, I approached her and knelt beside the couch.

"Riley," I whispered, but she didn't wake. Not wanting to startle her, I decided it was best to let her sleep in a proper bed. Gently, I slid my arms under her, lifting her with ease. She murmured something incoherent, nuzzling my chest as I carried her up the stairs to her bedroom.

I hated how good she felt against me.

When I reached her room, I pushed the door open with my foot and moved toward the bed, laying her down with all the gentleness I could muster. I pulled the covers back and tucked her in as carefully as I could.

I stood there for a moment, watching her. Her face was relaxed, the stresses of the day smoothed away in sleep.

Unable to help myself, I reached for her and brushed her hair off her face. Then I leaned down and pressed my lips against the smooth skin of her forehead.

She didn't move, but I noticed a very slight intake of breath and pulled away, afraid that I might have woken her.

But she slept on, her breathing steady and peaceful.

For a moment, I lingered before I told myself I needed to leave before I did something I regretted.

With one last look, I turned off the bedside lamp.

"Sleep well, Riley," I murmured, my voice barely audible. I stalled at the doorway, feeling the pull to stay, to watch over her and protect her for the rest of my days. But with a reluctant sigh, I pulled myself away, closing the door softly behind me.

She wasn't mine.

I had to keep telling myself that until I believed it.