Chapter 68 Where is he?
Chapter 68 Where is he?
Maria's POV
The words hit me like a lightning bolt: “I know who the mole is!” My eyes widened in disbelief as I hurriedly moved to Dimitri’s side, my voice trembling with urgency. “Did you just say what I think you did?”
A fierce growl escaped him as he kept his distance, his eyes blazing with intensity. “You heard me! We’ve got to find Maxim and Aleksander. This can't wait!”
As if he were summoned like a genie, Maxim strode down the dimly lit hallway with confident purpose, as if he owned the entire place. He wore well-worn blue jeans, a fitted hunter-green T-shirt that hugged his torso, and pristine white sneakers that looked brand-new, suggesting he may have just purchased them. My jaw nearly dropped at the sight of him, stunned by the contrast of his casual attire and the tense situation.
Did Russian men his age typically dress like this?
Breaking the tense silence, Maxim’s face lit up with emotion. “My boy!” he exclaimed, voice thick with feeling, and hurriedly ran toward Dimitri. He shot me a quick, appraising look—perhaps blaming me for the bruises that covered his face, forehead, and chin—implying he thought I had somehow contributed to his injuries.
“Pakhan,” Dimitri started grasping onto Maxim’s shirt.
“What did I say about that? Call me Papa!” he whispered to Dimitri, just audible for me to hear.
A faint blush rose from under his bruises, his gaze turning quickly back from that of a young schoolboy to that of a lethal mafia lieutenant, “Papa, I know who the traitor is!”
Maxim stilled, “Did you say what I think you just said?”
Throwing his hands up in the air, he looked between Maxim and me. “Is there an echo in this room? Y'all both heard me!” pointing his finger like a maniac now between all three of us, “Now pull me up so we can find Alek!”
Maxim put his hand under Dimitri’s armpit and yanked him to his feet. Dimitri was visibly sweating again, even the slightest exertion exhausting him. His one-way tract of thinking was impressive to say the least. Here he was recovering from his literal deathbed, and he would do anything to get to Aleksander.
Maxim looked at me as if noticing how badly I was beaten up for the first time, like he wasn't the one who had saved me.
“You're looking better, Maria.” Maxim winked at me as he began to help Dimitri towards the stairs. “Why is there no fucking elevator in this house?” Maxim grumbled, still supporting Dimitri as he helped him climb down the first few stairs. Not even glancing back at me, “You're crippled too, Maria. Don't you think an elevator would be beneficial?”
Afraid he might have eyes in the back of his head, I dug deep inside in order not to roll my eyes. “He really should build one,” I murmured as it took everything in me to follow behind them.
By the time I made it to the bottom of the stairs, I was exhausted. Beads of sweat were dripping down my forehead, and sweat was dampening my shirt under my armpits. Maybe I should've worn more deodorant. Sighing, there wasn't much I could do about this now.
None of the guards were around that I could see as I was left alone at the bottom of the stairwell. I knew construction was going on, but I was beginning to get annoyed that it was so damn difficult to find either Henry or Aleksander.
Grabbing hold of the banister, I pulled myself up and started walking towards where I knew the small indoor gym was located. It was at the opposite end of the hallway as far as you could get from the kitchen.
Made it about twenty feet down the hall when I heard a familiar voice, “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Henry was a sight for sore eyes, his toned muscles covered in sweat, glistening in the sunlight from the window.
“Henry, I need your help. We need to find Alek.” I begged.
As if still a soldier, his back arched straight back into attention when taking orders.
I did my best to move closer to him so I could stand on my own feet. I knew that his grip would be more stable than the walls or furniture I'd been holding onto for the past hour.
“He’s been outside supervising the crew that's fixing the gates,” he said while looking around, trying to find a quick way to get hold of him.
Finding his phone tucked away in his pants pocket, he held Maria up with one arm and the phone in the other.
“I'm gonna call him now, don't worry!” he whispered to me.
Leaning my head against his shoulder, I felt as if I could breathe for the first time as the ringing of the phone lulled in my ear, almost as if it had been a sweet lullaby.