Page 34 of The Crimson Lily

Instinctively, I bring a hand to my neck. The alcohol dimmed my senses last night, but I remember his hands around my throat. Now, when I touch my skin, I’m reminded of his tight grasp, the lack of air, the feeling of surrender. I am more aroused than ever.

I stand up and stagger to the nearest mirror, noticing how my legs are still shaking from Maksim. I take a look.

As expected, a collar of purple and blue is carved into my skin. He must have pressed very hard. I should be afraid. I should think this man is too dangerous for me, that he could kill me, but when it comes to taking a life, Maksim knows exactly what he’s doing.

I turn back to him, more flabbergasted than angry at him for marking me this way. I can’t cover this with a bicycle fall or an allergy story. I’ll have to find another way. It’s winter—scarfs are acceptable.

I shrug. I never really thought about it. Maybe there’s something wrong with some of my pain receptors. Oh well, it doesn’t really seem to have been a problem before, so I don’t ponder it further.

“No regrets!” I exclaim, and he chuckles at my reaction.

He rises to his feet and walks to me. He wraps me in his arms, gently strokes my face, and gives me yet another intoxicating kiss as my eyelids feel heavy. If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up, ever.

“You’re special, zaya ,” he whispers.

Now I have to ask.

“Are we—” Nope. I can’t finish my sentence. “How long are you staying?” I ask instead.

“For a bit,” he replies. “But you need to pack your things.”

I open my eyes wide, stunned and confused. “What?”

“You’re going to Rome,” he declares. “It’s time to complete the mission.”

Reality falls on my shoulders. I know exactly what Maksim means by the mission because I know darn well that William de Loit is in Rome. There is no doubt that I’m going after him, finally, after six months. And it is clear that I have no say in the matter.

“What about you?” I wonder. I actually don’t mind going at all, Bratva’s orders or not; I just want him by my side.

He still holds me in his arms as if he’s not going to let go anytime soon. “I need to finish a job, then I’ll join you.”

My heart breaks a little. I want Maksim to come with me, to be with me at all times, to keep me safe. Now, I pout and look away. He takes my chin between his fingers and makes me look back at him.

“You want to try this Dom and Sub thing, right?” he checks, a smirk drawn upon his beautiful face. “Do as I say, and I’ll give you anything you want, zaya .”

Oh, I think I’ll melt right here. I smile and close my eyes, enjoying this moment in Maksim’s embrace. I inhale deeply to catch his scent. When I open my eyes, he releases me and sits back on the bed.

“What time is my flight?” I ask. I know he or someone at the Bratva already prepared everything.

“5:55 p.m.,” he answers, and adds all flight details.

I am flying with Alitalia this time. Flight AZ 609. It’s already almost 12 p.m.; I need to get packing quickly or risk missing my flight. That’ll disappoint my Dominant, and we really can’t have that.

I got packing about an hour later, after Maksim allowed me to mount him for a good cowgirl session on the bed, his hands around my neck, back where they belong.

I really needed to get that sexual energy out of my system.

Reading and talking about dominance and submission got me so aroused that I still silently crave a little more.

Here I am, in thick jeans and black boots, wrapped in an ample gray faux fur winter coat, standing by the side of the road, waiting for my presumably long black taxi.

Maksim arranged it for me; that’s why I imagine a black car pulling up to me.

I was just on a call with Melissa, my department’s HR representative at the university.

I told her I needed some time off, so she booked two weeks of PTO for me.

How nice, I’m now seeing this escapade as an exciting vacation in Rome.

Has it come this far that I find danger… ?enticing?

It’s snowing. I still look up at snowflakes as if it’s my first time seeing them, my eyes opening and squinting at the same time.

After all, this year’s first snowfall was my first in this life, helping me to experience the true meaning of winter.

I stick my tongue out to taste one, then realize Maksim is looking, and immediately feel silly and childish.

I press my lips together and make a wasn’t-me face.

My favorite Belarusian man stands beside me, suited up, my suitcase by his knee.

The taxi arrives—bingo! It’s a long black car.

He opens the door for me and lets the driver secure my suitcase.

I have a big smile on my face, but I’m not sure why.

Perhaps because I realize I’m actually going to Rome, and as an archaeologist, Rome is like a goldmine.

Maybe I’m also gleeful that my boyfriend is taking me to the airport.

Yes, I call him my boyfriend now. I don’t care if it wasn’t said out loud or contracts weren’t signed or anything. Maksim will just have to deal with it.

“When will you be arriving?” I ask him as he scooches into the car.

He shuts the door and signs at the driver to get going. “Tuesday.”

I nod, computing in my head how long I’ll have to wait for him. I’ll arrive tomorrow, Sunday morning, in Rome, so I’ll be alone for three days. I can do that.

“What’s the plan for me?” I have to pose my favorite question.

He responds first with a little chuckle. Perhaps he also remembers how many times I asked about the plan back in Paris. His expression hardens a little, and he becomes serious again.

“You’ll be meeting with a contact who claims she can lead us to your boss,” he replies.

She? I need a little more information than that.

“Hmm,” I hesitate. “How do I know where and whom to meet?”

“You’ll receive instructions upon arrival.”

Wow, so…?business-y. Maksim’s tone changed to something administrative.

I clear my throat, straighten in my seat, and look out of the window.

I feel his big hand reach out for mine. He covers it, protects it, clenches it a little to remind me he’s here.

I draw a gentle smile on my face, looking back at him, admiring his perfect jawline.

Parts of him are still an unsolvable riddle to me, and I love that about him.

He fiddles with his pocket for a moment and takes out a little blue and white box.

Tiny butterflies flutter erratically in my stomach; I’m getting a present.

Here it is, my reward for being a good girl and obeying my…

?master. Hold on, Liliana, don’t get too excited!

He opens the box. In it is a small, triangle-shaped object, some kind of electronic device. He pulls my hand toward him and places the object in my palm. I flip it around using both hands, trying to figure out what it is.

“Make sure it’s always on,” he requests and hands me the box that contains a charging cable.

“What is it?” I ask, fascinated by this tiny device.

He takes the object out of my hands, then makes his way to the zipper of my coat, pulls it down just slightly, and clips the little triangle on the collar of my University of Columbia sweatshirt. He taps my nose with one finger and offers me a beautiful smile.

“Make sure you always have it on you too,” he says, giving me a small kiss on my lips.

I figured it out. This tiny triangular device is most probably a GPS tracker.

I like that idea; it makes me feel a little safer.

Maksim can see exactly where I’ll be. It’s not creepy, especially not on a mission like this.

It’s necessary. I thank him and return his smile.

I want to tell him, here and now, what I feel for him, but the words won’t come out, so I look back out of the window at the tall buildings of New York City that vanish behind us.

I remember the last time I took a taxi to JFK Airport.

Six months ago. I was clueless, triggered by the ache for adventure.

Now, that same feeling, the sensation-seeking spark in me, radiates again.

I am anxious, terrified, but eager to solve the riddle that started the night of June 15, 2022, when I lost my memory at the hands of William de Loit.

It’s about time that bastard pays for what he took from me.

And it’s about time we get the Kinzhal Strastey back on Bratva grounds.