Page 25 of Silent Ties (Ruling Love #1)

Russet

M ax nonchalantly exits the main dining room with a to-go bag full of desserts.

He nods to tell me everything is all right, placing his hand on my lower back as we exit.

Pavel’s pulled the car to the curb. But when Sergei opens the door, Max hands him the bag. “We’re going to walk.”

Taking my hand, we wind in between pedestrians, escaping into a park. It’s peaceful as we stroll, the sun shining and the greenery lush.

He pulls me to a bench but doesn’t let go of my hand.

“You came to lunch,” I say.

“You’re never going to lunch with her again.”

A lump builds in my throat. Not because I’m saved from some horrid experience. But because I know he understands.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

I lightly shake my head, but he squeezes my hand.

“I vowed to protect you.”

“That wasn’t in our marriage vows.”

He scowls. “Yes it was. ”

I don’t press him. Shadows swirl on his face and I lightly smooth my finger over his brow.

“What was I going to say?” I ask quietly. She’s his mother.

“I would have believed you.”

I give him a look, my shoulders sagging.

“I would have,” he declares again but swallows. I’ve never seen an unsure side of him before. He glances at the ground and then back at me. “Tell me.”

I do, keeping it short and to the point.

“She what?” He squeezes my hand tighter. He doesn’t realize how much it hurts, until I try to take my hand back.

“Let’s leave it in the past.”

He hesitates at my forgiving attitude.

“She’s your mother,” I remind him.

As long as I don’t have to be around her it’s fine. And honestly, now that I know that he’s angry on my behalf, I feel better. It’s not all in my head. She really is a crazy bitch.

He settles back into the park bench, needing a few moments to process.

“I’m sorry about Elijah.”

“Don’t say his name.”

I stifle a sigh. “Is that why your hand is bruised?”

He eyes his knuckles, surprised at the injury.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about pizza night,” I say trying to be the bigger person.

He stares off for a moment before saying, “I know you think I’m spying on you but that’s not the case. I never gave a damn if you went out. If you shopped or baked or got coffee that’s not even coffee.”

He likes to remind me that my coffee order is all sugar.

Max gathers his words. “I thought you knew you could do that. Leave the house.”

But for the first few months, I was paranoid. “You never wondered if Marissa sent me as a spy?”

“Of course, I did.” He doesn’t let go of my hand. “But you didn’t lie about Daisy.”

He’s mentioned her name several times over the past few months. I was shocked, yet somehow not surprised, to realize he’d found out about her. Then after Lennie’s warning, I knew he had to be one of the people trying to dig up information on her.

It never occurred to me that the story of Daisy proved to him that I’d gotten caught in the middle of things. Then again, he knew Marissa would kill me if I ever tried to go back to a normal life.

Max notices the little details while seeing the whole picture. Maybe that’s why I always feel one step behind.

“You ever going to tell me about her?” he asks, dark eyes studying me.

My lips part but no words escape.

He’s not surprised, but for the first time, I see the hurt creeping over his features. “I could try and help,” he offers.

If I say it’s impossible, he’ll do it just to prove me wrong.

He’ll get hurt if he tries to, though. As much as I want to help Daisy and her daughter, I can’t risk Max. Lev Zimin would tear this city apart if something happened to his son. And. . . maybe I’d be right there with him, helping.

“I had to help her,” I say. “I tried to.”

He understands that it didn’t matter. Daisy is still in Marissa’s clutches. He presses a tender kiss to the back of my hand. Turns out he can be an affectionate bastard.

His knee bounces up and down. “I don’t. . . talk a whole lot.” He clears his throat. “I’m guessing you noticed.”

We’re going to have it all out then.

“I’m the middle brother,” he explains and I tilt my head to the side. “I grew up listening to Elijah’s theatrics and Roma. . . God, I love him but he’s a fucking mess.”

My brows raise .

“You think I’m joking. He went through a poetry phase in high school. All year I had to listen to Shakespeare monologues.”

“Really?”

He nods.

“But it always seemed like you didn’t care about what I was saying.”

“It’s just my face.”

“Why don’t you smile more?” The sharp jawline is swoon-worthy, but when he smiles it’s breathtaking.

“I don’t know.” He wrinkles his nose and once again I’m reminded of a mountain. Buried deep beneath the exterior is the real Maxim Zimin. “If I smile more would things be better?”

“I don’t want to annoy you,” I say softly.

He shakes his head, sighing. “You don’t annoy me.” He hesitates. “I mean yeah.”

I try to take my hand back.

He holds on tight. “Don’t ruin this.”

The smirk on his lips isn’t a full smile, but he’s trying.

“I want to hear you talk,” he says seriously, like he’s not quite sure he understands it himself. “All your gibberish. About your baking and whatever else you’re into.”

“And you’ll ask me questions,” I prompt.

“If it makes you feel better.”

It’s not that I’m forcing him to participate. I think he doesn’t know how.

“Have you never had a serious girlfriend?” I ask.

He frowns. “Yeah.”

“And you didn’t talk to her?”

The smirk widens. “No, not really.”

“That tracks.”

An uncomfortable twinge spreads in my chest at the thought of Max doing any of the things he does to me with another woman.

It makes me think of the spark of attraction we’ve always had.

“Do you think we can do this?” I ask. “Be married.”

“We’re going to stay married.” There’s no room for argument. “So we may as well figure out how to operate with one another.”

“You really want to?”

His eyes narrow. “You don’t?”

“I’m just. . . are you sure?”

“Well, I’m obsessed with learning about every noise you make while I fuck you.”

My cheeks heat at the blunt, dirty statement.

“If I had to guess, I’m going to continue to obsess over you, wife. So yes, I want this.” A second later he adds, “But please for fuck’s sake never speak to Elijah again.”

I bite back a smile. But then I tip forward, brushing my lips to his cheek. “You’re very jealous, you know.”

He stands, hauling me up.

“Wait, where are we going?”

He’s striding back the way we came, toward the parked car.

“Home,” he says over his shoulder. “There are several things to take care of.”

“Like what?”

“Like your punishments.”

My heels drag against the gravel path.

“Conspiring with my brother, keeping important secrets.”

“And who’s going to punish you?” He’s a stubborn prick every day.

“You!” he retorts, but a smile relaxes his face. “It’s not like I’ve had a moment of peace since we got married.”

“Who’s fault is that? ”

“Being a brat will only make it worse.”

Good thing he’s not looking at me, or he’d notice the blush spreading across my cheek. A shiver climbs down my back, anticipation skittering across my skin.

“But first I have to fire Pavel and Sergei.”

I come to a halt, yanking my hand out of his. “What? Why? They haven’t done anything.”

He frowns at me in another fit of jealousy. “You think I don’t know those fucks haven’t been spending their days eating cupcakes? No wonder I didn’t notice Olga throwing shit away.”

I roll my eyes. There’s no way in hell I’m letting him fire my only two friends.

Grabbing my hand, he hauls me back to the car and I can’t stop the smile when he says, “By the way, I fired that bitch.”