The Arrangement: An Age Gap, Mafia Romance (Silver Fox Daddies)
The Arrangement: Chapter 14

The moment I see Tory, seated and vulnerable, something snaps inside me—a fury, raw and consuming, unlike anything I’ve felt before. Every instinct screams to tear Aleksey apart, to reduce him to nothing with my bare hands for what he’s done. Yet I clamp down on that urge, keeping the beast at bay. Control is everything in moments like these.

When I see the bruise on her face, the rage returns.

I want blood, family or not.

I point directly at Tory’s bruise, my voice a blade. ‘Who did this?’ The demand is for my father, but Aleksey steps forward, the hint of a challenge in his stance.

‘I did,’ he confesses, brazen and unrepentant. ‘You were too slow to act, Maksim. I took initiative.’ His words are like gasoline on the inferno raging inside me.

My gaze shifts to my father, searching for a sign, any indication that this isn’t sanctioned. But the slight nod he gives confirms my worst fears—he allowed this to happen.

‘Spying on me, Aleksey?’ I probe further, the question laced with ice.

As I confront the chaos before me, Tory tries to edge in, her voice a whisper against the storm. ‘Maksim, I—’

Aleksey cuts her off, his voice booming, overriding hers with an arrogance that sets my teeth on edge. ‘This isn’t about her, Maksim. It’s about us, about our family and how we handle business. Something you seem to have forgotten how to do.’

Her attempt to speak, though swiftly silenced, strikes a chord within me. The sight of her, trying to replace her voice amidst this power struggle, ignites a protective fury deep in my chest.

‘The hell it isn’t about her,’ I snap back, my focus narrowing on Tory’s bruised form. ‘You bring her into this, hurt her, and attempt to claim it’s about family honor? She is under my protection.’

The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of my declaration hanging heavy in the air. Tory’s eyes meet mine, a mix of pain and something fiercer shining back. In that gaze, I replace my resolve.

The realization hits hard—I am embroiled in a war not with my enemies but with my own blood. Aleksey’s actions, sanctioned by Igor, aren’t just an assault on Tory; they’re a direct challenge to me, to my authority, my decisions. A declaration that my loyalty, divided as it is, must now choose a side.

Aleksey, with his reckless ambition, has just escalated this from a family dispute to a battle line drawn in the sand.

Tory’s injury hardens my resolve. I will shield her from further harm, even if it means standing against my own flesh and blood. The game has changed, and with it, so must I.

Aleksey’s smugness is palpable, his every word dripping with contempt. Father watches us like we’re pieces on his chessboard, his expression unreadable but keenly observant. The air between us crackles with tension, a prelude to the storm about to break.

‘We’re running a business here, Maksim,’ Aleksey starts, his tone patronizing, as if explaining the obvious to a child. ‘A hundred grand isn’t pocket change to just write off because you got distracted by a pretty face.’ He leans in, a vile smirk playing on his lips, ‘And let’s be clear, she can’t settle her debts in bed. This isn’t about whatever fling you’re having. It’s cash we’re after. Getting your rocks off with this little whore is a distraction we don’t need.”

His words ignite something fierce within me, a surge of protectiveness and anger that narrows my vision to just Aleksey and the space between us. Without thinking, I lunge at him, a growl of rage escaping my lips.

Before I can reach him, Father’s command cuts through the tension. ‘Enough!’ He snaps his fingers, and like magic, three of his goons barrel into the room, pulling me back and putting themselves between us.

I’m seething, shaking with the effort it takes to hold myself back. The goons have their hands on me, but I shrug them off, stepping back to regain my composure. I realize then that brute force won’t win this battle.

Breathing hard, I lock eyes with my father, trying to convey a message beyond words. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

‘This isn’t just about money, and you know it,’ I say, my voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through my veins. ‘This is about respect, about decency. Something you both seem to have forgotten.’

My father remains silent, his gaze shifting from me to Aleksey, who’s still looking smug even in the hold of the goons. It’s clear he’s considering the situation, weighing his next move.

Aleksey, undeterred by his brief moment of restraint, scoffs as he shakes the men loose. ‘Decency? In our line of work? You’re delusional, brother. She owes us, and she’ll pay, one way or another.’

My anger toward Aleksey simmers beneath the surface, a raging inferno held in check by sheer willpower. I catch Tory’s eye, her own fury mirroring mine, especially after Aleksey’s crude insinuation. A quick nod from me, a silent message that now’s not the time for vengeance, seems to calm her just a bit. But make no mistake, Aleksey’s words have marked him in both our eyes.

My brother, unfazed by our silent exchange, continues with his provocation. ‘You should be thankful, Maksim, that there are those in this family who understand how to properly run a business,’ he says, cockiness lacing every word.

I’m about to snap once more, to put him in his place, when Father’s voice, deep and commanding, cuts through the tension.

‘Enough!’ he bellows once more, his voice booming through the room. ‘This bickering is pointless. The debt is what brought us here.’

‘Yes, the money,’ I echo, my voice laced with a controlled anger. It’s time to end this charade, to bring this confrontation to a conclusion. I turn to the leather bag I’d brought with me, now on the floor, its contents the answer to the standoff we replace ourselves in.

‘You want your money? Here it is,’ I declare, my tone leaving no room for further debate. I grab the bag, tossing it directly at Aleksey. He catches it, surprise flickering across his face for a moment before it’s quickly masked by his usual arrogance.

The room falls silent, the only sound the rustle of cash as Aleksey opens the bag to confirm its contents. Father watches closely, his expression unreadable, while Tory, silent, stands with a strength that speaks volumes.

Aleksey looks between the cash and me, a glimmer of understanding passing through his gaze. ‘This changes nothing,’ he finally says, but the edge in his voice has softened, if only slightly. “You still broke protocol, went over our father’s head for that woman.”

I laugh, knowing he’s desperate, grasping at straws. “You said it was all about the money, did you not?” I gesture towards the bag. “There it is. What difference does it make where it came from?”

“And what if it’s not all there?” Aleksey protests, his weakest gambit yet. “We should count it.”

I snort. “Bill me if I’m short.”

Aleksey’s jaw is working. He’s not happy with the way this turned out at all. But that’s no matter. He can squirm and pout all he wants.

I turn to my father. ‘I’ll be over later. We need to talk more thoroughly about this whole mess,’ I say, my gaze unwavering, challenging him to disagree.

For a moment, my father meets my stare, the silent exchange thick with unspoken words. Then, with a slight nod, he concedes.

Without another word, I turn to Tory. Our eyes meet, and in hers, I see a mix of questions, fear, and a trust that humbles me. Her trust steels my resolve as I take her hand.

‘Come on, let’s get you out of here,’ I tell her, the words low but filled with a protective firmness. I pull her to her feet, my grip reassuring, as we make our way out of the warehouse, leaving the weight of the confrontation behind us.