The Arrangement: An Age Gap, Mafia Romance (Silver Fox Daddies)
The Arrangement: Chapter 15

As Maksim yanks me through the labyrinth of the factory, my feet barely touching the ground, I let out a stream of protests.

‘Hey! I’m not some little doll you can just cart around whenever you feel like it,’ I snap, trying to wiggle free from his iron grip.

Maksim quiets me with a command so sharp, so utterly bold, it’s like hitting a mute button on my defiance. ‘Enough.”

I’m silent, a surprising thrill running through me at his authoritative tone. I’m not used to men speaking to me like this, and it’s disconcerting how much I replace myself responding to it. There’s something about the way Maksim takes charge that’s unsettling and attractive, even if my inner feminist is screaming objections.

Before I know it, we’re at his car—a sleek, luxury beast that looks like it eats miles for breakfast. Despite everything, Maksim takes the time to guide me into the seat with care, as if I’m the most precious cargo imaginable.

The silence envelops us as we drive away, my thoughts swirling uncontrollably. The realization hits me hard; Maksim didn’t clear my debt as some twisted seduction tactic. His coming to my rescue, standing up against his own flesh and blood, and it speaks volumes. He’s in this for reasons I can’t fully understand, but what’s clear is his intentions are not filled with manipulation or deceit.

The ride is quiet, the kind of silence that’s thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. I steal glances at him, trying to decipher the man behind the wheel. Maksim’s focus is unyielding, his jaw set in determination.

As we glide through the city, the silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken questions and half-formed thoughts. My mind’s racing, trying to piece together the events that led us here. The more I think about it, the more one question burns brighter than the rest: How did Maksim even know I was in trouble?

Gathering my courage, I turn toward him. ‘Maksim, how did you know I needed help?’

There’s a pause, a moment where he seems to weigh his words carefully before he answers. ‘I suppose you forgot in all that agitation that I had cameras installed in your office and the front of your business,’ he reminds me, his voice tinged with hesitation.

Shame courses through me. Right, because that’s what brought him to my door in the first place. Because he witnessed my most private moments.

‘Yeah, you saw…everything.’ My voice is a mix of horror and curiosity, hardly louder than a whisper.

Another few beats pass.

‘Yes, I did,’ he responds, the regret in his voice unmistakable. ‘And I never got to say this to you that night, but I should say it now, I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.’

His apology hangs in the air, a confession that unexpectedly shifts something within me. Here I am, supposed to be outraged, yet part of me can’t help but acknowledge the complexity of his actions. It’s a bizarre feeling, knowing he’s seen me at my most vulnerable, yet it’s his straightforward admission and evident remorse that softens the blow.

“That being said, I don’t regret it,” he adds, prompting a smile to dance on my lips.

As the cityscape blurs past us, my emotions are a tangled mess. I should be furious, and part of me is. Yet, there’s another part, confusingly touched by his protective instincts, however misguidedly executed.

‘Okay,’ I finally say, the word more an acknowledgment of his honesty than forgiveness. ‘But you have to take them down.’

He lets out a halfhearted chuckle, the tension easing just a fraction. ‘Of course.’

‘Take me back to my shop,’ I demand, the words sharp, cutting through the tension. After that, I retreat into silence.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him open his mouth. Maybe he wants to say another word in his defense. But whatever is on his mind, he closes his mouth, shaking his head.

He’s paid my debt, a fact that keeps replaying in my mind. But it strikes me, hard—wasn’t that debt imposed on me unfairly to begin with? My emotions are a whirlwind, gratitude mingling with resentment, relief shadowed by a deep-seated anger for the privacy he’s stolen from me.

The realization that Maksim, for all his protective gestures, is entangled in a world fraught with betrayal, leaves me reeling. Knowing he’s associated with people who wouldn’t think twice about harming others adds a layer of fear to the already complicated mess of my feelings.

Rationally, I should want to sever all ties with him. To run as far from his dangerous world as I can get. Yet, despite the chaos, despite the fear and the violation of my privacy, there’s an undeniable pull that I can’t ignore. My body betrays me, craving his presence, his touch, even as my mind screams caution.

The silence stretches on, a chasm filled with unasked questions and unresolved emotions. The more I think about it, the more conflicted I feel. Grateful for his intervention, yet still furious for the intrusion. Terrified by the danger his life represents, yet inexplicably drawn to him. It’s a paradox I can’t seem to resolve.

As we drive, a suspicion starts to worm its way into my thoughts—we’re definitely not headed back to my shop. The silence between us is thick, charged with all the things left unsaid, until I can’t take it anymore.

‘Hey, where do you think you’re taking me? Drop me off,’ I demand.

Maksim’s response is frustratingly calm. ‘I just want a chance to talk, to explain. We’re going to my place—just for a bit.’ He adds, with a hint of something that might be concern. ‘And I need to ensure my father’s truly going to back off. You’ll be safe there.”

I let out a sigh, half irritation, half resignation. Sure, part of me is curious to hear what he’s got to say, and the other part—the one that’s not keen on being a mob target—admits that a confirmation of being out of danger wouldn’t be the worst thing.

‘Ty’s probably flipping out wondering where I’ve vanished to.’

He offers his phone to me, an olive branch. I eye it, fighting the impulse to knock it out of his hand in a fit of defiance. But as much as I want to stick it to him and demand he turn the car around this instant, a bigger part of me is dying to hear his side of the story. After all, Maksim’s not the one who got me into this mess; that honor goes to Ned, and that guy’s not around to answer for his sins.

‘Alright, give it here,’ I grumble, taking his phone. Might as well let Ty know I haven’t been abducted by aliens or run off to join the circus—not yet, anyway.

As I dial Ty’s number, I feel like I’m walking a tightrope between my fierce need for independence and the unsettling realization that Maksim, in his own twisted way, might just have my back. It’s a weird place to be, caught between wanting to throttle him and wanting to hear him out.

As the phone rings, I rehearse a quick explanation in my head, something to smooth over my unexpected absence without causing a panic.

‘Hey, Ty, it’s me,’ I start, trying to sound calmer than I feel. ‘Had a bit of an emergency. Everything okay at the shop?’

Ty’s voice is a balm to my frayed nerves. ‘Yeah, got a call from our first client on my cell. Made it there in time, so no issues. What’s up? You alright?’

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. ‘Yeah, I’m good. Glad to hear you were able to cover. Thank you. Today’s a slow day, thankfully. I’ll be back soon and fill you in on all the drama.’

“Drama! I am intrigued!” he replies with a relieved laugh. “I’m just glad you’re all right. See you later.”

“Thanks, Ty.” Hanging up, I hand the phone back to Maksim. ‘Thanks for letting me use your phone. And for… this, I guess.’ I gesture vaguely between us, the car, the road – this whole bizarre detour my day has taken.

Maksim takes his phone back, a hint of something like gratitude in his gaze. ‘Thank you for giving me a chance to explain. Everything happened so fast between us, some things slipped through the cracks,’ he says, and it’s sincere enough to tug at the edges of my resolve.

But as we drive, I wonder if I’m trading one mess for another? Sure, Maksim stepped up, played the hero when I needed one. But the more I think about it, the more I question whether his rescue comes with strings attached. Is this just trading one kind of trouble for another?

‘Look,’ I start, turning to face him fully, ‘pulling me out of the fire with those two? That’s on the plus side. But don’t think I’m not weighing my options here. Getting involved with you… it’s like hopping from the frying pan into the fire.’

He nods, a wry smile playing at his lips. ‘Understood. But let me try to even the scales a bit, okay?’

I settle back into my seat, crossing my arms as I mull over his words. Part of me is ready to bolt, to get as far from Maksim Morozov and his complicated world as possible. But there’s another part, curious and undeniably drawn to the man beside me, that wants to give him a chance.

‘Fine,’ I say finally, ‘but it better be one hell of an explanation.’

We’re soon cruising through a part of Chicago that looks like it leapt straight out of a ‘Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous’ episode. Each house we pass is more eye-popping than the last, making my quaint shop apartment feel more like a cardboard box by comparison.

His house is big and classy, with all the quiet confidence of a Broadway star knowing they’re about to nail their performance. The kind of house that doesn’t need to brag, because one look at its tasteful architecture and perfectly manicured lawns does all the talking.

Maksim stops the car, and I’m just staring out the window, thinking, Girl, what have you gotten yourself into? Marching into Maksim’s lair feels a bit like willingly walking into a beautifully decorated trap.

‘Seriously? You live in this palace?’ I ask, unable to keep the awe out of my voice.

Maksim cracks a smile, clearly amused by my reaction. ‘Welcome to my home.”

Following him to the door, I shake my head in disbelief. Stepping into his world, even just for a bit, feels like crossing into uncharted territory. Here I am, about to dive headfirst into the opulence, fully aware that I’m out of my element.