Possess(The Syndicate: Crime and Passion 1)(44)

“Sergei,” I said, meeting his eye, holding it until I was sure he understood how serious this was, “not a word of this to anyone. If even a single syllable of this conversation gets out, I’ll—”

“I know, Maxim,” he said, cutting me off with an impatient wave. “You’ll cut me to pieces and feed my body to ferrets. Got that part. Keep going.”

I glared at him, but then shook my head. “She’s pregnant,” I said.

For a second his eyes went bright and he smiled. “Congratulations!” he exclaimed, but his smile dropped quickly. “She needs to be back here now.”

“She disagrees,” I said.

“She doesn’t get a vote in this matter,” he said vehemently, his expression telling me he couldn’t believe I was allowing this situation.

I couldn’t believe it myself, but this was where we were, Senna and my unborn child away from me. Because of her need for something I couldn’t give.

“Senna has never been my prisoner, Sergei, despite how it may have seemed,” I said.

“I know. You love her too much for that,” he said as though it was the clearest, most transparent thing in the world.

It was.

I hadn’t accepted it before, but hearing Sergei speak the words I had thought countless times solidified them, made them real.

“I do,” I said. “Love her too much to force her to stay somewhere she doesn’t want to be.”

Sergei frowned, shook his head.

“What?” I asked.

“I thought I understood you, but I gotta say, I never saw this coming. You fucking bulldoze over anyone and anything, Maxim. Of all the times for you to go soft, think about shit like feelings and what someone else wants, you choose now, when the woman you love, your baby for God’s sake, are at stake,” he said.

“That’s precisely the issue,” I said.

“Okay, still not getting it. Can you spell that out for me?”

“You’re right. I do bulldoze over anyone and anything, don’t give a fuck about doing it either. I don’t want to do that with her, but I don’t know how not to.”

I met his eyes again, trying to convey to him how screwed up I was. I had no idea how to have the kind of relationship Senna wanted, the kind she deserved, so letting her leave had seemed like the right choice. Now I questioned that decision, and Sergei’s expression told me he agreed.

“You and she can work it out. You’ve done it before. I don’t see why that can’t continue,” he said.

He watched me, his expression serious as I stayed silent. “Just think about it, Maxim.”

Then he turned and left.

Reconsidering my previous stance, I started to go after Sergei, but stopped, weariness making the effort seem like far too much. Instead, I went to the empty bedroom, one I hadn’t slept in since the day she’d left, and retrieved the box I had tucked into the top drawer.

After I opened the box, I looked down at its contents. I’d only opened it before when I had something to add, but now, I simply needed to see the items inside.

Eight flowers made of the finest jewels and metals.

I remembered each one, the year I had given it to her, the place I had bought it. She’d gotten rid of all but the first and last, and I hoped that meant something.

As much as I hadn’t wanted her to sell any of them, as much as her doing so, her not being here, hurt, I was proud of her too. I’d always known she was strong. She was finding her way without me.

The next afternoon there was a knock at the door and I looked up as Adrian entered.

“She’s fine,” he said when he came to a stop in front of me.

I nodded, knowing that was what he’d say but still relieved to hear it anyway. He would have come sooner if there was a problem, but I appreciated his updates.

In the hours after Senna had left, when I’d still been in the middle of wallowing in my anger and disbelief, Adrian had put a team on her, one that had followed her ever since. I never asked about her or demanded reports, but Adrian always checked in, told me just enough so I knew she was safe.

He turned to leave but I stopped him. “Adrian.”

When he stood still and again faced me, I paused, considering. Pride should have kept me quiet, but I needed an answer, so I asked the question.

“Can you tell? About the baby, I mean?”

I had stumbled over the words, stuttered, given away my emotions, something I hated, but something I couldn’t avoid.

Adrian looked at me, almost glaring. Then he finally said, “You should go see for yourself.”

Then he left me there, alone save my longing for her and the need to know about my child.





Twenty-Eight