Page 33 of Be My Vengeance

Maksim regarded Toni with flirty eyes. “You like my voice?”

“Just wondering why someone who lives in Russia most of the year has nearly no accent.”

He huffed in annoyance, likely because he’d been rebuffed. “I deal with a lot of Americans. My father made sure I knew the language.” He snorted. “I speak English more than I do Russian.”

That explained why Maksim was here instead of his older brother, Sergey. Maksim had been groomed to deal with dealings in America and English-speaking countries, probably.

“What do you know about the Popov family?” Alex’s voice was low but in the quiet of the room, it may as well have been blaring.

“Popov,” Maksim repeated.

Alex stepped closer to the bed, but Gideon stopped him with a hand on his wrist. “Yes, what do you know about what happened to them?”

“Hmm.” Maksim’s head tilted to the side, his eyes glazed. “I know they’re dead.”

“You motherfu⁠—”

“Alex.” Gideon stood and forced Alex to sit in the vacated chair. He then faced Maksim. “Tell me everything you know about their deaths.”

Maksim’s gaze slipped from Gideon to Alex. “If this is about revenge on my father for killing your wife, I’d have helped you. All you had to do was ask.”

Well, that was an interesting twist I hadn’t seen coming.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Alex

“Danny, take Alex out of the room for a minute.”

My head snapped to Gideon. “I’m not going anywhere!”

“I’m not asking,” Gideon growled.

“Come on, Alex.” Danny rested his hand on my shoulder, and an odd feeling settled in my chest. I was still angry, but it was as if I were overheated and someone had opened a window, and I could breathe.

I stood. “Fine.”

Danny followed me to the kitchen, where I began pacing. “You heard him, right?”

Danny nodded. “Sounds like he’s not a fan of the pakhan, either.”

I halted and stared at Danny. “You think we could trust him to help us take out his father?”

“At the end of the day, the decision will fall to Gideon. I’m just wondering what you’re thinking after all that.”

“I’m thinking we can’t trust anything that comes out of that Russian fuck’s mouth, Danny. Sure, he’s talking after the injection, but we already know it’s not foolproof. He could be playing us.”

“You’re right. He could. So, what do you suggest?” Danny opened the fridge, took out two sodas, and handed one to me.

I leaned against the counter and took a sip. “I don’t know. I can’t…” I squeezed the bottle so hard, liquid shot from the top. Danny took the drink from my hand, placed it in the sink, and started drying my hand with a towel.

“Your anger has a hold of you—which is warranted, obviously. But when you’re that angry, thinking straight doesn’t generally happen.”

I watched as Danny gently cleaned my hand. It was just soda, but he was tending to it as if I were hurt.

“What would you do?”

He lifted his head, his face mere inches from mine. “I don’t know.” His voice was low, and his blue eyes darted to my lips.