Page 14 of Scarred Angel

She’s…something else.

Hard knocks and a sharp chime cut through the pounding bass. I kill the music and head for the door, not bothering to check who’s damn near breaking it down. I already know.

I yank it open and almost collide with my mother. She doesn’t flinch. Her eyes lock on mine. Cold and unforgiving.

“Is there something wrong with your phone?”

“No.”

“That’s funny,” she says, folding her arms as she leans against the doorframe. “Because I’ve called and texted. Not a single reply.” She takes a step closer. “So I ask you again, Maksim Belov—Did your phone die, or are you purposely avoiding me?”

Even years after her last blood oath, she still carries that edge, that razor wit, and that glint of darkness in her eyes that never really left. A reminder of who she used to be.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind. Work never stops, even here.”

Mom exhales hard and brushes past me, moving with the same exasperated confidence that once terrified men twice my size. “Valentina is fine,” she says, seeing straight through my bullshit. “You’d know that if you answered her calls or went to see her. She’s been home five days, Maksim. And you weren’t the one driving, so spare me the guilt act.”

She props a hand on the counter. “Maks, I get needing space. But punishing yourself over something that wasn’t your fault? That’s pointless. Don’t be foolish. Not today. Because I’m not in the mood to be annoyed.”

I pull her into my arms and press a kiss to the top of her head, remembering when she used to tower over me, stronger, unshakable. The first person in so long who made me feel safe. And the first who ever looked at me and saw something worth a damn. She saved me that night, in every way that mattered. But some scars are carved too deep to ever fade, no matter how much love or loyalty is poured over them.

Another rush of guilt burns hot at the back of my neck.

I left Russia for her, to be closer, to be here in case she needed me. And yet, with everything that’s happened, we’ve barely spent any real time together.

That’s on me.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole. It’s just…almost killing Vali wasn’t on my list of plans when I stepped off the plane that morning. I can’t shake the image of her lying there, nearly lifeless.”

She pulls me in tighter before easing back, her gaze softening when it meets mine. “We all love her, Maksim. The last few days have been…a lot. ButValiis fine—on the mend.” Her tone lightens on the nickname, and I catch the teasing in her eyes.

With a soft clap to my chest, she tilts her head and smiles. “How about lunch? There’s a little café a few blocks from here. Your treat.”

I huff a quiet laugh, catching her face in my hands before pressing another kiss to her forehead. “For you? Always.”

The restaurant hums with too many voices, too much noise. We order quickly and escape to the patio, grateful for the privacy.

Mom is busy firing off a message on her phone, and I take the chance to really look at her. The faint scar on her neck catches the light, a reminder of how close we came to losing her. Six months ago, she scared the hell out of all of us. Cancer.

I hadn’t cried real tears in years—until that phone call.

She and Silas were in London at the time. I was on the next flight out and refused to leave her side through the surgery and recovery. She made us swear not to tell the rest of the family until she had answers, and when she threatened to use herkatana to keep us quiet…well, neither of us doubted she meant it.

But karma hadn’t come for her yet. They cut it all out, and she’s been clear ever since.

“What do you say we swing by Valentina’s place?”

My first instinct is to shut it down, my smile slipping, but instead I just shrug and nod. What the fuck am I running from, anyway?

“How long do you plan to stay? I promised one of my contacts I’d meet him this afternoon.”

Mom rolls her eyes and takes a slow sip of water like she’s already tired of my shit. I can’t help but laugh.

“Easy. Cancel,” she says, setting her glass down with a snap of finality.

“The world doesn’t stop because I’m here…or because of that accident.”

Being continents away doesn’t mean business pauses. Shipments still have to move, deals have to close, and my people still expect to get paid. Loyalty doesn’t grow from fear alone. It’s earned through respect. When I took over what was left of my father’s empire at eighteen, I’ll admit, I was hesitant, afraid I’d never fill the shoes of the men who came before me. Unsure if I even wanted or deserved to.