Part of Your World

Maks

Maks

I waited as long as I could. Everyone in the hotel room is fast asleep. I slid my gun into my holster, along with my extra magazines, my knives—any weapon I could fit on my body in a discreet manner. I checked my phone again, the bluish light blinding in the darkened room. The address was still there. Stark, black and blocky numbers and letters. My beacon to Aria.

I wasn't a dumbass—I knew this was a trap, but unlike the mistake I made with Vi, I would come willingly, would give myself up to these scumbags, and Aria would be safe with Niko come the dawn. I'd set his alarm for three in the morning, leaving him a note that detailed where he needed to go to get her.

I would likely be dead by then, or close to it. I didn't care. My pain didn't matter, for I could endure the lowest pits of hell if it meant keeping Aria safe. She was my number one priority, for the rest of my life, however short that may be. As long as I got to see her one last time, I would die a happy man, grateful to have been loved by someone as kind and beautiful as her.

I stood before the door, taking a steadying breath. I glanced down at my hands, holding them up into the lowlight from a lone lamp. They shook slightly, but it wasn't myself I was afraid for. It was Aria, it would only ever be her I feared for. I grit my teeth, shoving that aside. I pulled the door to our hotel room open, fleeing like a phantom into the night.

***

I followed the directions with precision, and it became more and more apparent the further I drove what these sick bastards had done. I put the car in park, shrouded by low fog and only a small amount of light from the moon. It was a snowy, hushed landscape, and in the distance I could make out the glimmer of a lake.

The very spot Aria's mother was murdered before her eyes. I cut the engine, tossing my phone into the passenger seat. They weren't stupid; they knew I would tell my father, my brothers, where I was. But I wasn't dumb, either; I came alone, as they demanded. I knew it was me they wanted. The new head of the Volkov Empire. Everything my father had built with his blood, sweat, and tears was about to crumble.

And all for love.

I heaved a breath, opening my door and exiting into the frigid night. There was no need to sneak up on them, no need to plot out escape routes. Niko would be here in less than an hour now, and he would take Aria home. I trudged through the snow, a flickering orange light up ahead near the water's edge from a small fire. I could make out bulky figures, could hear them conversing in Russian.

I straightened my back, holding my head high, my shoulders square. Their eyes turned to me, their voices quieting. I held my arms open as I approached, but all I could see was one thing, the one thing that could make my heart triple its pace. The one thing that had changed me. I needed my old self, tonight, needed to forget the man she had turned me into and remember the psychotic side that had always saved my ass.

Sure, I was resigned to my fate—to die for her. But that didn't mean I wouldn't fight like hell to get my hits in for what they had done to her, to Violet and my family. A few sauntered forward, cocky in knowing the five of them could subdue the one me.

Aria, wrists bound, was sitting on a log near the fire, a heavy, inked hand on her shoulder keeping her in place. I locked eyes with her for a moment. She trembled, lip wobbling, eyes shimmering with tears. But it wasn't her fear that pulled me up short; it was her anger—her anger directed at me.

I should have expected her to be pissed at me for doing this, for giving in so easily, but I knew she would do the same for me. She was just going to have to learn to forgive me someday when I was six feet under. A few of her tears fell, and I grit my teeth against the sight, feeling arms caging mine in, twisting them behind my back as they patted me down and threw all my weapons into the snow.