Page 25 of The Crimson Lily

“If that’s the case, then William doesn’t really see me as a threat,” I add. “Think about it. He sends two of his men to kill Maksim, but he leaves his apartment barely guarded.”

William tried to kill me in the past. The memory of my accident flashes before my eyes again. I haven’t confirm that fact out loud before, even if it’s darn obvious. I haven’t found the energy yet to reminisce about it, but it’s something that, eventually, I’ll need to face and process.

Maksim walks into the room and hands me a plate with a shiny croissant and a cup of coffee.

I raise my eyes to him, a little surprised, and thank him with a smile.

He’s back in his dark-gray suit, with a white shirt this time.

I think I’m going to melt if I look any longer, but he starts speaking to me.

Béatrice definitely notices that I’m almost drooling.

“I made sure I went in when security was low,” Maksim declares.

“You did leave everything the way it was, right?” Béatrice checks. “So William won’t suspect you were in his apartment?”

Maksim doesn’t answer. I know what that means—Béatrice asked a stupid question.

“What if it was a trap?” I pose, then lay my eyes on Maksim. “What if William lowered his security so I’d go in and he could get rid of you?”

Béatrice gives me an ample nod. “That makes sense, but it didn’t work out the way he’d planned.”

“I’m just wondering why he’d think I’d go in,” I say distantly. “I mean…?I’m not Bratva! I barely know how to throw a fist.” I chuckle a little, recalling my failure of a punch yesterday.

We all remain silent for a minute, brainstorming about what’s exactly going on here.

I still find it very strange William expected me to go for the dagger.

And I feel a little scared. What does that say about me?

Does it imply something I did in my previous life?

I’m getting a little worried. Not only for my own safety, but also because William and his people are now after Maksim too.

How does William even get people in the first place?

For a second, that question hits me. How does a professor at the University of Columbia have security guards and hitmen at his command?

Béatrice’s phone rings. She hesitates to answer when she sees Alejandro’s name on her screen.

“All??” She eventually picks up and puts it on speaker.

“Yeah…?it’s Alejandro. Listen, just so we’re clear, I don’t want anything to do with this anymore. But I just saw William talking to Robert Mercier, my project supervisor.”

We all straighten our postures, coming closer to Béatrice’s phone to hear Alejandro better.

“He was talking about needing a place to store something very valuable until Friday. Robert gave him the address of a storage house along the Seine. He said the place is highly secure.”

Béatrice gasps. “Shit. That must be the one near Quai d’Orsay! It’s like a parking lot where we sometimes temporarily store our excavation findings.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Alejandro confirms. “I thought this might help.”

“Thank you, Alejandro!” I exclaim impulsively.

“Liliana…” He falls silent, then I hear him clear his throat. “I’m sorry I ran off yesterday, Lili. I just hope you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” I reassure him. “Don’t worry about me.”

“You know I won’t do that,” he says. I swear he’s smiling. “Be safe, you two.”

He hangs up before we can say anything else. I remain quiet for a minute, then I turn to Maksim.

“Until Friday…?That gives us about three days,” I say.

He’s silent. I use this occasion to take a few bites of my croissant. He turns around and disappears into the hallway. I don’t have a chance to catch his attention; he’s already long gone.

“Where is he going now?” Béatrice asks.

“I don’t know,” I answer with a longing sigh. “I guess we never will.” I curl my eyebrows.

“Are you in love with him?”

Wow. That question takes me by surprise. I chuckle nervously, unsure how to respond, knowing my reaction isn’t the most elusive.

She notices and speaks again. “Do you…” She wants to check something but isn’t sure how to phrase it. She closes her big brown eyes to think for a second. “Does he hurt you? I mean…” She clears her throat. “In bed?”

I burst into laughter. I can’t hold it in, nor can I give her an answer that doesn’t sound absolutely insane.

“It’s okay, Lili,” she assures. “Some people like these things.”

“Well,” I say, still laughing. “He…?hmm…?he likes it rough.”

She frowns. “Do you?”

I purse my lips, pondering how to say this without screaming a big yes. I go with a single nod.

“What is this place anyway?” Béatrice asks, looking around the room, opening her eyes wide at how it looks like a museum piece from the Renaissance.

“It’s his family holiday home,” I reply, with a hint of pride I don’t quite understand myself.

“Damn!” she exclaims. “If I’d known I could have an Eiffel Tower view on a mafia salary…”

She stands up and goes to analyze the sideboard. She finds the same picture with the same beautiful blond woman and the man in a suit. She holds it for a second before turning to me.

“Any ideas where these two are?” she asks.

“I’m not sure,” I say. “He’s not very talkative.” I let out a long sigh.

“Be careful, okay?” she requests. “He killed two men. He’s a criminal.”

“Well, Béa,” I begin. “I don’t know what you think, but after all this madness, I have a feeling I’m not a complete angel either.”

She frowns again. “What makes you say that?”

“As it turns out, I made the deal with the Bratva to work with them. I knew the safe’s combination, and I proposed to help them in exchange for I don’t know what.

On top of that, William expected me to show, not the Bratva.

This tells me I play a way bigger part in this than I think I do.

I just can’t remember, and it’s killing me. ”

For the next hour, Béatrice assures and reassures me that, for the whole time she’s known me, I have been a good person.

She tells me about how I fought for her against the racist, frustrating parts of our educational system and helped her get the job she deserved.

She tells me, with tears in her eyes, how much she loves me and how afraid she was yesterday, seeing that gun pointed at me.

We both sit on the sofa and cuddle like two best friends at the end of a sad romance movie.

However, even after this moment of solace with my best friend, with her stroking my blond hair as I rested my head on her lap, I have this feeling of guilt gripping my throat.

And I have this twisted urge I can’t explain, one that whispers in my ear that I deserve to be punished.

That’s why, after spending the evening munching on takeaway pizza, I wait and wait until Maksim comes home.

It’s already dark outside when he opens the door.

I wear nothing but my oversized shirt again.

I let him take off his jacket and shoes, but after that, I don’t wait anymore.

I hop to him, wrap my arms around his neck, and go for his lips.

He returns my kiss for a little while, pressing me against him, but he eventually lets me go and lets out a frustrated growl.

“ Zaya , wait…” He attempts to push me away.

No! I’m not going to wait anymore. I want him. I need him. And I need him to make it hurt a little. I’m screwed up—I admit that to myself. At this moment, I recognize something isn’t completely right.

Is it not, though?

I’m perfectly fine with things getting rough, and not just a little. I’m perfectly fine with Maksim painting my body with his marks. I actually enjoy it. I enjoy this devilishly handsome Belarusian man marking his territory, making my body his property.

I land at his feet, on my knees, unbuckling his trousers. I can feel how hard he is already. That bulge is screaming at me.

Maksim growls and runs his fingers through my hair.

I look up, meeting his furious silver eyes, and he tightens his grip.

I slide his trousers and boxer shorts down his legs.

My lips have made it their duty to please this man.

I wanted to tease him first, so it all starts with gentle kisses, one after the other.

He is quivering, a little more after each kiss.

His grip has become a fist in my hair, and he lets a grunt escape—a warning sign.

“Don’t play with me like this, suka ,” he snarls.

I roll my eyes back up and give him the cocky blue look of provocation; my tongue has joined in with the fun.

I shouldn’t have done that.

Maksim pulls on my hair, forcing me to stand. He’s taking off his shirt in a flurry, his eyes fixated on me.

He lifts me up effortlessly. I squeal, eager or anxious to witness what he’s about to do to me. My squeals turn into cheeky laughter, which he immediately silences by pressing his palm on my mouth.

We don’t make it to the bedroom.

He lays me on the stairs. It isn’t comfortable at all, but right now, I just ache for him.

My body begs for it. When I touch the cold marble, he seizes the occasion to latch on to my hips and pull me to him.

He lays his hands on my back, pressing me against him, then he enters me with incredible force.

I squeeze the railing with one hand, his shoulder with the other.

He fucks me hard, right there, on the marble stairs of his family’s vacation home.

This is extremely uncomfortable. I want to say something between my loud moans, but he pulls out and lifts me up again.

He carries me to the kitchen, which I have no time to explore.

He places me on top of the large island and fucks me again.

I hang on his neck, screaming like a siren.

Maksim is giving me the purest of pleasure.

I can barely take it, but at the same time, oh, man, this is divine.

A chilling pain blazing with ardor. He slips his arms underneath my knees, which makes me release him.

He places my legs on his broad shoulders so he can squeeze even deeper.

His hands hold on to my neck as a better anchor.

I am completely locked in this position.

He keeps a steady rhythm until I feel this familiar wave spread through me again.

It reaches out to my toes, to the tips of my fingers, all the way to the crown of my head.

His grasp around my neck tightens. That’s when the torrent pierces through all invisible walls erected in my mind.

I scream a silenced scream between attempts to catch my breath. I want to stretch my legs but can’t. The second I reach my orgasm, my entire body explodes.

He lets me go so I can recover. I fall backward, landing on the island, trembling and shaking. Maksim brings his hand to my thigh, but spasms immediately overtake me again the second he touches me. My screams are decreasing, but I am still moaning frantically.

When I gather the composure to face him again, he has an obsessive smirk on his face. My eyes venture down his athletic chest, just for a second of awe, then lower and lower, until…

“Oh my!” I exclaim. “Was that all me?”

I count the little splatters on his abdomen.

“It’s not that much, zaya ,” he concedes with a tempting smile. “We need to teach you how to make more.”

I giggle loudly and bite my lip. “How will you do that?”

He only responds after he’s flipped me over and taken me from behind, there, on the kitchen island.

I struggle to reach the ground with my toes, that pure feeling of pain and pleasure returns.

It hurts, yet it is simply exhilarating.

A symphony of luscious pain singing through my nerves and blood.

In this moment, as the rapture seizes absolute control over me, I’ve never felt more alive.

Maksim’s body comes forward to cage me. “Just. Like. That,” he growls into my ear, each word after each movement.

I come again. Twice. And Maksim follows me after the last one.

As I am recovering between shallow pants, Maksim walks out of the kitchen and vanishes onto the stairs.

I hear the water from the shower run. I feel a little confused…

?and duped. I don’t know what I expected, but a part of me wants to curl up to him and close my eyes.

Instead, he left me on the cold kitchen island.

The bed with emerald pillows in my assigned room is actually much more comfortable than Maksim’s.

I am counting the flowers on the wallpaper when his hand, which was caressing the side of my body, sneaks up to my breast. Maksim lies beside me, spooning me, stroking me, and giving me soft nibbles on my neck.

I made him promise to stay until I fall asleep.

As I examine the silver flowers, I suddenly think of the question I haven’t asked yet.

“What was the answer to de Loit’s riddle?” I pause for a second to recall it. “Pure and innocent, a carefree flower…” I search further into my memory. “Petals joined in a funnel…?that can tame a glower!”

He chuckles a little. “You’d never guess…”

“Tell me!” I insist with a curious little girl’s voice.

“The answer was…” He keeps the suspense going. “Lily.”

“Seriously?” I laugh.

I roll over and kiss him. He holds me there, close to him. He’s already making his way back to my chest when my voice interrupts him.

“What happens when we go back to New York?” I ask. My tone has dimmed. I’m not looking in his eyes anymore. In truth, I’m a little terrified of the answer. I don’t know what I have with him, but I definitely don’t want it to stop.

Plus, there’s the whole William problem.

Can I even go back to New York after all of this?

“I take another job,” he declares, his blue eyes betraying no emotion.

“Oh…”

I don’t say more. Instead, I stare at his chest, tracing the curves of his muscles with my finger. The image of Béatrice and Alejandro comes into my mind, how they’d loathe me if I ever saw Maksim again once I’m back in New York.

“Alejandro really doesn’t like you,” I murmur with a whimsical smile.

“He’ll get over it.”

“True,” I whisper, almost falling asleep. “He got over me, after all.”

Maksim growls softly. “He didn’t.”

I’m not answering because my mind has already begun a journey down the valley of dreams. I hear his next words, though, spoken as he still holds me close.

“He needs to deal with the fact I don’t share,” he declares and squeezes me tighter.