Deceitful Vows (Marital Privileges #2)

76. Zoya

76

ZOYA

I ’ve moved past my grief by the time Maksim returns to the living area. I buried it deep in an anger that’s so volatile I don’t consider the aftermath of my actions when I storm up to Maksim and throw my fists into his chest and face.

He blocks my first two hits, but my third and fourth send his head rocketing to the side and a sickening crunch sounding through the entryway of Gigi and Grampies’s apartment.

“Did you kill them! Did you punish them for something they didn’t do?” I don’t give him the chance to answer. My grief is too strong to see through the madness. “It wasn’t them. They didn’t initiate the bribe. It was me. I sent the email. I bribed Dr. Sidorov to put Zakhar at the top of his list because I didn’t know about the agreement Andrik had made with you.”

Air whistles through my teeth when I drag in a much-needed breath. I’m still belting into Maksim, still overwhelmed with remorse, but I won’t stop fighting.

I should have never stopped fighting.

Maksim’s tattooed forearm blocks my fist before his hands clamp my wrists and he pulls them to my sides. Although his sneer is barely a whisper, I have no trouble hearing him since he tugs me to within an inch of his face before bobbing down low so we’re eye to eye. “Admissions like that will get you killed, so if you want any chance of fixing your mistake, you need to shut your fucking mouth.”

When my shock renders me silent, he drags me into the servants’ stairwell and then shoots his eyes to the door he walked me through only seconds ago.

Satisfied his wife isn’t going to burst through it to ask what the hell is going on, he shifts his focus back to me.

He stares at me like he hates me, his nostrils flaring and his jaw tight.

My glare mimics his to a T. He seemed like a fair man. Just. I never considered he would be a monster who’d kill an innocent child for the stupidity of an adult.

“He wasn’t even five. His birthday isn’t for another ten days,” I stammer out when my grief becomes too much.

“And Yulia was only six. Six! ” he shouts. “Yet you sent her to her grave in the cruelest way possible.”

“I didn’t know. I swear on Nikita’s life I had no clue?—”

“Don’t bring her into this! Don’t use my wife to fix your mistakes.”

He frees my wrists from his hold before he steps back to pace the corridor. I can see the struggle on his face not to retaliate with more violence, sense his struggle. He wants me to pay for hurting Nikita, and I honestly want the same as well.

“This is my burden, so I’ll take the shame. I will tell her everything. I’ll admit to every horrible thing I’ve done.” I wait for him to look at me before adding with a sob, “But not until you tell me what happened to them.” I hiccup. “Did you kill them?” His silence agitates me to no end. “Answer me, goddamn it! Did you kill them?”

“No!” Maksim shouts, his angry roar reverberating in the tight confines of the corridor. “But don’t think that was my choice. I promised my wife I would take down the people responsible for hurting her.” He stares me up and down and then shakes his head in disgust. “But he was right. Keeping that promise may hurt her the most.” He hates his next words. His expression announces this, not to mention his tone. “She needs you in her life. I doubt she would have one if it weren’t for you. But you’re going to tell her the truth. You’re going to tell her everything when I say she is ready to be told.” He bangs his chest when he says I . “Do you understand, Zoya? Not a second before and not until I know she is strong enough to endure the pain your shame will place on her shoulders.”

Tears topple as I nod. I am both ashamed and relieved.

Nikita will be devastated when I tell her what I did, but I can live with that shame if it means Andrik, Mikhail, and Zakhar are okay.

After staring at me long enough to ensure he is confident I am telling the truth, Maksim signals to a man at the end of the stairwell to move forward.

“Take her to this address.” He hands him a business card and then returns his eyes to me. “That is as far as I can take you. He’s not exactly welcoming to visitors right now.”

He drinks in my solemn head bob for half a second before he spins on his heel and walks away.

He is almost back in the foyer of the penthouse suite when I slow his steps. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

It feels like the sun circles the planet a hundred times before he accepts my apology with the briefest chin dip.

I gallop down the servant stairs half a second later.