The Promise (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 2) by Bethany-Kris (fiction book recommendations .txt) 📕

way others portrayed Karine since he had never treated her with the respect she deserved, but it still stung. And she had never been so lost that she didn’t know what she was missing in her father, either.

“That’s my daughter,” he said in a murmur. “My last living child, Demyan.”

Still.

He had to.

Demyan remained silent, but the way his features softened briefly said that he wasn’t opposed to the idea that there was more to Karine.

“I’m sure since you’ve met her, you know this already, but Karine is much more than just an unstable girl. She’s confused, troubled, sure—but none of it is her fault. She’s a very fragile flower in the meadow of giants, and it’s very difficult to keep someone like her safe in a world like ours.”

As Maxim finished, Demyan nodded. He had never offered his friend a true look at his personal life or the feelings he had for the people in it, but the lack of judgement staring back at him on the screen encouraged him to continue.

“And there are a great many things I have to apologize for,” he said, shrugging. “To you, I mean.”

“How so?” Demyan asked.

Maxim sighed, his gaze traveling back to the windows where he could see the inky sky—the picture-perfect backdrop to his life. Black. Nothingness. Soulless.

“I should apologize to you for not showing you the same respect you showed me,” Maxim said, glancing back to the laptop and the man on the screen. “You shared a lot with me over the years. About your family and such. You even opened up your home and welcomed me into it—I sat at your table, and ate with your wife. I never did the same to you, and for that I’m sorry. I just didn’t have the same things to offer, Demyan. The life you have doesn’t exist in mine.”

Demyan took a sip of drink from the glass that was by his side, seconds ticking by in silence before he finally replied, “There’s still time for that. Maybe this is just the start.”

Maxim nearly laughed at that, but instead, only a dry chuckle escaped him. “Actually I don’t have much time at all,” he replied, glancing at the other frames that were open on the laptop screen.

There, the feed from the security cameras showed that one by one, they were starting to flicker off. Pitch black squares dotted the grid of cameras now, and it didn’t surprise him. He expected it to happen, and knew exactly what it meant, too.

Even though people assumed he didn’t have security cameras—no criminal wanted their crimes recorded by their own hand, after all—he did have a few. A very select few that were not easily noticed by guests. Only a handful of people knew the cameras existed.

Maxim reached for the glass on his desk, lifting the golden-hued liquid to take a whiff of it. Harsh and strong, the scent filled his lungs, but he didn’t take a sip. That was not what he needed tonight. Instead, he put the glass back down and took a long drag of his cigar, letting the smoke fill his lungs.

If the snakes in his grass didn’t kill him, cancer surely would someday.

“Chicago’s on fire,” he finally said.

Demyan, quietly waiting for whatever Maxim decided to surprise him with next, only narrowed his eyes at that statement. A boss didn’t need an explanation for that kind of observation.

Chicago was on fire, and his whole world was collapsing around him. Because this was his world. Or it was supposed to be.

“About your boy,” he added before Dmeyan could comment, “I would have given him the time to grow into his role—if I could have—but he’ll just have to do it himself, now. It’ll probably be quicker than you would have liked. Expect that he’s going to stumble a bit because of it, those growing pains hurt, Demyan.”

Demyan opened his mouth to reply, but Maxim was too fast to interrupt with, “And my girl—the thing is, I never did right by her. Not when I had the chance, you understand? So, I had to do it now. I had to do something that could help her, but I was trying to keep my word to you, too. I wanted to return your boy to you in one piece. A lot of my years have been spent being selfish. Turns out, it’s not so hard to do the right thing.”

“Max—”

“Not that I know what the right thing is,” Maxim uttered under his breath.

Demyan grunted, falling back into his chair on the screen as he absorbed the rambling that even Maxim didn’t truly understand. He didn’t have the time to edit his words or thoughts, but if the man honestly wanted to know ... there it was.

Everything that was important, anyway.

Narrowing his eyes, Demyan leaned closer to the screen. “You realize very little of this makes sense to me, right?”

“I know,” Maxim replied.

More cameras had turned off in the open security frame. Simultaneously, he could also now hear the footsteps approaching his office doors through the long hall. Each step echoed in the darkness.

“I could help if you would just tell me what’s happening there,” Demyan muttered, unaware.

Maxim ignored him. Those were answers that Demyan wouldn’t get from him.

“Do me a favor, comrade,” Maxim murmured, a hint of a smile curving the edges of his lips when he glanced back to the screen. “Tell my daughter I did love her ... I just wasn’t very good at it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Demyan stood from his seat on the screen, but Maxim was already reaching for the end call button. “Maxim, what are you—”

He smirked at Demyan, and nodded once. “It’s a good night to die, old friend.”

That was all he said before he took another puff of his cigar, and ended the call. Automatically, the settings would delete its record.

At the office doors, the shadow of a figure fell on the frosted glass. He knew exactly who it was and why they were coming.