Page 87 of Secret Heir

Maksim sets down the poker and crosses to me, sitting on the coffee table so we’re at eye level. He takes my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “It is real. We’re real. This”—he gestures between us—“this family we’re building is the most real thing I’ve ever had.”

“Then why can’t I shake this terror?” My eyes fill with tears. “Why am I still so afraid?”

“Tell me what you saw that night.” His voice is gentle but urgent. “Please, Aria. Tell me what happened and let me prove you can trust me. Let me prove I’m not whatever you think I am.”

The tears spill over. “I’m afraid.”

He takes a breath. “Of me?”

“Of what happens when I tell you.” I pull my hand away, wrapping my arms around myself. “What comes after.”

His patience is fraying. I can see the frustration building behind his eyes. He stands abruptly, runs his hands through his hair, and paces to the fireplace and back.

“We’re back to this?” His voice rises slightly. “After everything—after weeks of this—you’re carrying my child, after I’ve done everything I can think of to show you you’re safe—you still won’t trust me?”

I shake my head. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is that simple!” He’s not quite yelling, but it’s close, his lips screwed up like he just ate something sour. “Either you trust me or you don’t. Either we’re creating something meaningful here or we’re just playing house until you decide to run again. I’m tired of the walls, Aria. I’m tired of feeling like you’re always halfway out the door.”

I stand too, my own frustration rising to meet his. “You don’t understand what you’re asking of me.”

“Then make me understand!” He’s in front of me now, his hands desperately gripping my shoulders. “Tell me what’s so terrible that you’d rather live like this than just say it! What could possibly be worse than this limbo we’re in?”

“Because saying it could get me killed!” I scream and they echo in the quiet library.

Maksim goes very, very still and his hands drop from my shoulders as if he’s been burned. “What did you say?”

I realize what I’ve said and I try to backtrack. “I–I d-didn’t mean⁠—”

“Someone would kill you for telling me what you saw?” His voice is dangerously quiet and he now looks like the Bratva enforcer I saw that night in the warehouse. “Who? Who are you afraid of, Aria?”

I shrink back, fear making bile rise in my throat. “No⁠—”

“Who?” he roars. “Who would kill you? Give me a name.”

“I can’t.” I’m crying now, backing toward the door, my heart hammering as my brain tells me to flee. “Don’t you understand? I can’t.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He turns away and braces his hands on the mantle, his shoulders heaving. “We’re right back where we fucking started. You won’t trust me or give me anything to work with.”

I’m scared shitless now, afraid of what I’m seeing. I inch more toward the door, desperate to get out of here. But Maksim spins back around, and the fury in his eyes makes me flinch. “Fine,” he spits out. “Protect whomever it is you’re scared of. But don’t expect me to smile and play happy family while you treat me like the enemy.”

“I don’t do that,” I whisper in fear as he stalks toward me.

“Yes, you do.” He’s right in my personal space now and I can see the fury in his eyes. “You look at me like I’m the enemy. I’m tired of paying for crimes I don’t even know I committed.”

I shake my head. “You don’t understand⁠—”

“You’re right, I don’t, because you won’t tell me.” He stops in the doorway, not looking back. “I need some air. Don’t wait up.”

Then he’s gone, and I’m alone in the library with the crushing weight of my own fear. I sink back into the chair and let myself cry. I want to tell him. God, I want to tell him so badly. I want to believe that he’ll protect me, and that telling him won’t sign my death warrant.

But what if I’m wrong?

What if I tell him and he was part of it? What if Alexander was telling the truth eight years ago and Maksim planned to kill Nikolai?

Or worse—what if I tell him and he doesn’t believe me? What if he thinks I’m making it up, and trying to turn him against his brother’s most trusted man?

Either way, I lose and I’m dead.