The Master (The Game Maker #2)(78)

“You, solnyshko, boggled my mind.”

“Me? I just held on for the ride.”

“You’re passionate, and when you do something you leap with both feet.” He curled a finger under my chin, tugging till I faced him. “You’re brave.”

I could make no claim on that. If I was brave, I’d fight for my birthright. I’d put a murderer behind bars. I cast my gaze down. Máxim deserved a brave woman. Wouldn’t a man like him expect one?

“Are you miserable from drink?”

“Not at all. Natalie made me and Jess take her hangover preventative before she sent us off to paint the limo.” We’d guzzled a bottle of Gatorade each, then took a few over-the-counter pills. It’d totally worked, but . . . “I have a sinking suspicion our shoe polish art wasn’t as brilliant as I thought.”

“I got up at dawn and checked it out, in case you two had written ‘eat a dick’ over and over.”

I laughed.

“Luckily, the poem is in place, and it’s passable. Definitely gives the wedding flavor. Did you forget you wrote ‘yo’ at the end?”

“You lie.”

“No, it’s there.”

Nota personal: no tequila with Jess ever again. I made circles with my forefinger over his chest. “Did you enjoy spending time with your brother?”

“He still holds himself back. But I think I do too. I suppose it will take time.”

“As long as it’s happening. Will you please tell me why you two were separated?”

“You didn’t learn anything from Natalie?”

“She was very closemouthed. I had to glean a lot. Will you tell me more?” I leaned up to lay my hands on his face. “I want to know you.”

He gave me a brows-drawn look. “You ask me today, showing the interest I’ve craved—just when Aleksandr advised me last night to tell you my sordid secrets. I can’t understand what this would accomplish. And I can’t believe you would view me the same way.”

“I will.”

“How can you be so certain?” He sat up against the headboard, and I did too.

I drew the cover closer over us. “Because the only way I’d view you differently is if you were pitiless to another, hurting someone who wasn’t as strong as you are.” Edward, Edward, Edward. “And I know you would never do that.”

“It’s an ugly story. My father was . . . abusive. He was part coldblooded schemer, part drunken thug. He used to beat me and my brothers, break bones.”

I just kept my eyes from going wide. “Go on, please.”

“He was always worse in the winter. When I was nine, he killed my mother in a rage.”

Oh, my God. “I’m so sorry, Máxim. Were you there? Did you see?” Witnessing Julia’s death had done a number on me—all that blood everywhere—and I’d hated the woman.

“Dmitri found her body at the foot of the stairs.”

“That’s what’s been haunting him?”

“I wish that were all. It gets worse. Are you sure you want to hear?”

“I’m sure. Please.”

His chest rose and fell on a breath. “Two winters later, my father would’ve killed Aleksandr as well, but my brother defended himself, accidentally ending the old bastard. Certain he’d be sent to prison in Siberia, Aleksandr ran off into the night, leaving Dmitri and myself behind. We were eleven and seven, and believed he’d abandoned us. Only recently I learned that he thought we would be taken in by distant relatives, a thousand times better off.”

“What happened instead?”

“Orloff, a middle-aged ‘guardian’ from the nearest town, was appointed. The way he looked at Dmitri gave me chills, but I didn’t know why. I had no idea there were adults who preyed on children like that.”

Oh, no, no.

“I didn’t like how much time they spent alone. Dmitri never complained, told me Orloff was a good man. And Orloff was different from my father. The man didn’t drink, never struck us, never even raised his voice. He never spoke inappropriately.”

Just like Edward. Sometimes monsters pretended to be gentlemen.

“There was no reason to doubt his decency, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. So I went to Orloff and asked him why he was so focused on Dmitri.” Máxim hesitated. . . .

“What did the man say? Please.”

“He told me that he only wanted to be a father to the boy, that Dmitri needed to lean on him to recover from the recent loss of both his father and his eldest brother. He wondered aloud, ‘Why would you not want Dmitri to be happy? Are you that jealous?’ The man lied so believably. I can’t express how skillful he was. He made me doubt myself. I walked away, convinced I was petty and selfish.”

Gaslighting. No wonder Máxim didn’t trust.

“Over the years, Orloff slowly replaced all the servants, those who might help us, those who’d also raised their brows. By the time I was thirteen, we were without friends, trapped in our secluded home.”

Sometimes, friendless was another way of saying defenseless. “Go on, please.”

“Orloff continued to spin his tales. And again, Dmitri was his staunchest advocate. I later learned that he’d told Dmitri he’d kill me—the last of his family still with him—if anyone found out.”