Chapter Nine
Maxim:Wait for me in our bedroom. I’m on my way home.
Sofia re-read Maxim’s text, which he sent over an hour ago. She scoffed but continued to pace the length of their shared bedroom.
Of course, he would find out about the little trip Alex and she took today.
Unable to settle her nerves, Sofia decided to leave the room. She headed downstairs, to the kitchen. Sofia dismissed the chef and his assistant.
Cooking always calmed her. When she first moved to her own apartment, she didn’t even know how to boil an egg, but over time, she learned.
“What about dinner?” the chef demanded. “Maxim had a specific menu in mind for tonight.”
“I’ll be making dinner for my husband,” Sofia said, voice firm.
All of the household staff who worked for Maxim were extremely loyal to him. She knew she had to stand her ground and somehow earn their respect.
“Very well,” the chef finally said, then nodded to this assistant.
Once they were gone, Sofia checked her phone. Still no new text from Maxim. Should she begin to worry?
Then again, Maxim sometimes got held up by emergency business meetings. Usually, one of his lieutenants needed to discuss Bratva matters with him.
No. Sofia needed to focus on her task. She checked the recipe she saved on her phone.
After scrolling through several notes, she found her mother’s personal recipe for Pasta Alla Norma.
Next, Sofia checked if she had all the ingredients and was relieved to find out Chef Al kept a well-stocked fridge. She found what she needed—eggplants, tomatoes, ricotta, and a number of spices.
Sofia went to work, chopping up her ingredients and boiling the pasta. She relaxed immediately and became unaware of the time passing.
She was nearly done and was about to garnish the two plates she’d prepared when one of Maxim’s men hurried into the kitchen.
He was fit, in his late forties, and his tie had come undone. He looked slightly out of breath. Sofia tried to remember his name.
“Yuri, what is it?” she asked him.
Yuri looked at her, then at the two plates on the kitchen counter. She sucked in a breath, immediately reading the worry on his lined face. Sofia grasped his hands. Fear clogged her throat. For a second, she couldn’t speak. She thought of Aurora pushing her out of the shooter’s way and therefore saving her life.
She remembered her mother’s blood staining her white dress. All the people Sofia cared about had been unfairly snuffed from her life.
Sure, Maxim and Sofia had their share of disagreements. Their marriage had begun as nothing more than a simple business transaction, but she had started falling for him for real.
She liked to think that in Maxim’s own way, he cared about her as well. Sofia gathered herself. She refused to have a breakdown in Maxim’s kitchen.
“Did something happen to Maxim? I must know,” she finally spoke.
“It’s Maxim,” Yuri finally said. “He’s been shot and was taken to Giland Medical. Lev told me to get you.”
Sofia paled. Her heart started beating painfully fast. She couldn’t lose Maxim, too.Please, God, no.Maxim was all she had left.
“Is he—is he in critical condition?” she whispered. Tears threatened to spill in the corners of her eyes, but she hastily swiped them away. Sofia refused to let Maxim’s men see her as weak.
“Maxim is in surgery as we speak. I don’t know more,” Yuri admitted.
“Take me to him,” Sofia said. “I just need to grab my purse. I’ll meet you in the driveway in five minutes.”
Yuri nodded, looking relieved. Sofia snatched her coat and purse from upstairs, then met Yuri in the driveway.