The Arrangement: Chapter 19

One month later…

Arare grin spreads across my face as I glance at my phone. I’d arranged for a bouquet of flowers to be delivered to Tory, a gesture to show her she’s on my mind. The confirmation comes in the form of a photo she sends me—her, radiating happiness, clutching the flowers, with one of her dogs making a comedic attempt at a floral snack.

Our first outing that Friday set the tone for what was to come. I’d taken her to Nightscape, an exclusive spot where the outside world fades away, leaving only the connection between those within its walls.

The night was a blend of shared stories, laughter that filled the air, and a mutual discovery that drew us closer. As the evening wound down, the connection we’d nurtured found its expression in more private ways.

Since that night, our paths haven’t crossed daily, yet not a day goes by without us talking, sharing pieces of our days, our thoughts. It’s a rhythm we’ve fallen into naturally, conversations that span from the mundane to the profound, interspersed with moments spent together that only deepen the bond we’re building.

Each time we meet, it’s as if we’re picking up right where we left off, a seamless continuation of the exploration we began the first night. There’s a comfort in her presence, a sense of rightness that comes from being with someone who understands me, challenges me, and accepts me—all at once.

This connection is something I hadn’t anticipated, yet here I am, drawn to her in ways I’m still unraveling. And as I set my phone down, ready to focus on the tasks awaiting my attention, a part of me is already looking forward to our next conversation, our next meeting.

My train of thought is suddenly derailed by Adelina’s booming announcement, ‘Uncle Aleksey’s here!’ Her energy could power the city, and despite the near damage to my eardrums, I can’t help but grin. ‘Thanks for the heads-up, princess,’ I manage amidst her giggles when I rub my ear.

The moment is light, full of laughter, until Aleksey strides in, and Adelina, ever the curious one, launches the question I wasn’t prepared to field just yet.

‘When is your girlfriend gonna come over again?’ The innocence of her query does nothing to ease the tension that snaps tight in the room.

My wince is automatic, a reflex to the unexpected complication her words bring, especially with Aleksey now fully tuned in, a wry glint in his eye as he saunters over to my bar.

Aleksey’s amusement is as clear as day, his intrigue palpable as he helps himself to a drink without invitation. The situation’s delicacy isn’t lost on me; Adelina’s simple question suddenly feels like a loaded gun.

Turning to Adelina, I muster as much nonchalance as I can. ‘We’ll see honey. Life is busy right now.’ It’s an attempt to deflect, to buy time in a conversation I’m not ready to have, especially not with Aleksey’s attentive ears.

Aleksey’s chuckle from the bar sends a clear message—he’s found a new angle in our ever-evolving game of chess. ‘A girlfriend, Maksim? That’s a new twist,’ he teases, sipping his drink with an air of casual provocation.

I meet his gaze, unflinching, the alpha in me rising to the surface. ‘Life’s full of surprises, Aleksey. Just like our business,’ I retort, the undercurrent of my words suggesting the depth of complexities he well knows.

The room’s charged with an unspoken understanding, a recognition of the delicate balance between personal lives and the demands of our Bratva existence. Adelina, oblivious to the tension, simply smiles, satisfied with her role in the day’s drama.

‘No way your mean old dad has a girlfriend, little Ade,’ Aleksey jests, a playful challenge in his tone.

Adelina, undeterred and full of youthful confidence, fires back, ‘He does too! Her name is Tory. She’s got pretty red hair and she has lots and lots of doggies.”

The room shifts palpably at her declaration, the air thickening as Aleksey’s amusement turns to a glare directed at me.

Catching the change in mood, Adelina decides it’s her cue to exit. ‘I’m gonna go find Irina. I’m hungry,’ she announces, a strategic retreat from the grown-ups’ conversation. I send her off with a blown kiss, pride swelling in me as she skips out of the room.

Once she’s gone, Aleksey turns his full attention to me, the previous levity gone. ‘You’re dating that woman?’ His voice is sharp, cutting through any pretense of jest.

I meet his gaze squarely, the weight of my position and my personal life colliding in this moment. ‘Yes, I am,’ I confirm, my voice steady. ‘Tory’s not just ‘that woman.’ She’s important to me.’

Aleksey’s eyes narrow, assessing, perhaps trying to find a crack in my resolve. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken challenges and the weight of my declaration.

Amidst the tension, Aleksey’s penchant for provocation rears its head. ‘Important, huh? What’s next, Maksim? You going to make our little dog watcher a respectable wife?’ His tone is laced with mockery, the kind that ignites a fierce protectiveness in me.

That urge, primal and fierce, to leap across the desk and wipe the smug look off his face for even insinuating Tory could be anything less than respected, surges within me. Yet I maintain the facade of calm I’ve honed over the years, my expression meticulously neutral despite the tumult inside.

‘Careful, brother,’ I warn, my voice low, the threat implicit. ‘Your insinuations are not appreciated. Not when it comes to her.’ My stance is clear, unyielding. Tory is off-limits.

‘Why are you thinking with your dick instead of your brain?’ Aleksey pushes, skepticism and accusation weaving through his tone like a sharp needle. He doesn’t pause for breath, plunging straight into a lecture on my apparent misstep. ‘Clearing her debt—what were you thinking? It’s not just a lapse in judgment.’

He leans in, his words a calculated jab. ‘Our father was not pleased, Maksim. And he’ll be even less thrilled when he finds out how serious things have become between you and this woman. You’re getting too close. A fling is one thing, but bringing her near your family, our family…”

The air between us crackles with tension, his challenge laid bare. But my response is measured, a counterpoint to his provocation. ‘My decisions are mine to make. Tory’s not a mistake. And our relationship is not up for discussion.’

His smirk is undiminished, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes—recognition, maybe, or the acknowledgment of a line he’s treading too closely.

I go on, meeting his challenge directly, my voice calm but laced with an unmistakable edge. ‘My decisions—how I handle my obligations and my personal life—are not up for debate. Clearing Tory’s debt was a decision made with full awareness of the consequences.’

The tension between us is palpable. ‘And as for our father,’ I continue, ‘I am well prepared to face any repercussions. My priorities are clear.’

Aleksey, with a smirk that could provoke a saint, leans back and delivers his jab. ‘So, the mighty Maksim has finally been tamed by a pair of perky tits and red hair? What’s next? Trading in your guns for bouquets?’ His tone drips with mockery, a challenge wrapped in humor, aimed directly at my resolve.

‘Enough,’ I cut in, my voice brooking no argument. ‘The debt is settled. Tory’s name is cleared from our books. We’re done here.’

Aleksey tries to jump back in, his words sharpened with the intent to twist the narrative his way. ‘But Maksim—’

‘I said, it’s over,’ I snap, the edge in my voice like a blade. The finality I inject into those words aims to sever this conversation.

The room falls silent, tension humming in the air like a charged storm. Aleksey pauses, his jaw clenching as he processes my stance. Then, with a scoff that’s both a dismissal and a challenge, he rises from his seat.

Without a glance back, without the barest nod of departure, he strides out of the room, the heavy silence his only companion. The door clicks shut behind him, the sound a definitive end to our heated exchange.

As the door closes behind him, a sense of resolve settles over me. This confrontation was inevitable, a clash of principles and priorities. But standing my ground, defending my choices and the life I’m choosing to lead with Tory, it’s a statement—a declaration that some lines are not to be crossed, not even by family.