#with maksim kurylenko

[ceceliaahathaway]

She watched the Russian man pull out a phone that she could only assume was his 'burner.' He wanted to put her daughters name into that?!? Though she maintained her composure externally, internally, she was horrified. The mere thought of it sent shivers down her spine. She would sooner walk across hot coals and kiss Ayaz again than supply her daughter's contact details to the Russians.

Oh, wait, that was his personal phone? Still, as pitiful as it looked—because let's be honest, it was a sorry sight—Cece couldn't shake the feeling that the man lacked social finesse. Strangely, he even appeared a bit more charming now than when she had first spotted him with his bow. "Here, take my number instead," she offered, pulling her clutch closer and retrieving a pen she always carried for making appointments. After all, one couldn't always rely on phones; case and point. But, a trusty piece of paper was timeless.

"My girls are in the middle of their studies..." She left it there. Not wanting to sell their locations out to a man she hardly knew. However, the inner-proud-mom wanted to scream 'at Cambridge.' She just managed to restrain herself.

She smiled. Nailed it. Oksana would be so proud.

"Cece..." He gently took her hand, and she couldn't help but admire its smoothness, noticing the care he took to protect it. He obviously wore gloves whenever he decided to work. "I should be going, but it has been a pleasure." Surprisingly, she genuinely meant it.

Maksim hummed in response, an instant assessment that the women didn't take well to compliments but he wasn't one to linger. With a simple nod of his head, he moved swiftly on, using his hand with a soft wave to instigate it.

"Ah, I mean, I can arrange that." His hand delving into his pocket as he produced a half beaten, smashed iPhone 6 that looked like it'd seen better days and looked oddly out of place against the stark suit that lay against his frame. "Your girls..." Maksim trailed off, as he punched his fingers against the screen a couple times, brows furrowing.

Maybe he needed a new one...

"I'll have to forward it to you, things not working. Why don't you take my number and then I can text it to you after tonight," waving the device. "Think I need to sort this out Monday." he laughed, before clearing his throat. "You said your girls, are your daughters in shows, or do you just like dressing them in extremely expensive things they'll grow out of in a month?"

Maksim Kurylenko was shocked, head almost reeling when Russian fell from her lips and his brows met his hairline. "Unexpected, very...very unexpected." He remarked, tilting his head to the side, assessing.

"Maksim," He held his hand out.

[gianna-palazzolo]

🍷

Send 🍷 for a drunk text from my muse:

Gianna: How did I evn get your number??? Gianna: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wLg04uu2j2o Gianna: Did you stela my phone and put your number in it??? Gianna: You're fucking weird. Gianna: you also look like a mouse goodnight.

[nadezhdaxyuryeva]

where: the bar when: night three who: @maksimkurylenko

"You are going to have drinks with me." She turns towards Maksim with a tray of shots, ready to finally enjoy herself on the last night, no longer tied to the ogre.

[cassandra-acton]

@maksimkurylenko Location: Off the beaten track so no one can hear him scream. Time: Friday Night.

"Try to dick her down and I will quite literally snap it off, you fucking gerbil."

[maria-azenha]

Where: Berkeley Manor Post Plot Drop Who: @maksimkurylenko

Fingers comb through her hair, the dire need to drown out the screams and pleas that echoed in her head.

She could feel bodies push past her, all heading in the opposite direction, but she had this sudden urge to push forward. If she kept going, she could escape that night.

A quietness suddenly engulfed her and something snapped that pulled her back, which in reality she wished hadn't, that the reflection in the window was one she didn't want to see.

Maria turns to face him, noting that he was blocking the exit. "Maksim." Her tone flat.

[ayda--demir]

Ayda: Happy New Year Ayda: I thought I might see you around the borough tonight.

[laurent--stpierre]

@maksimkurylenko Event: Valentine's Day Auction. Time: After Party.

The after party was in full swing. People were too distracted with their own shit, their own drinks, their faltering fucking relationships...nobody was paying attention to anything outside of the bubble. They were the types that never really did, anyway. Finding him in the crowd was easy, because the creepy little scarecrow fuck stood out like a sore thumb amongst other, normal human beings.

If he'd thought he wouldn't notice earlier, he was wrong.

The two had already clashed over Maksim's inability to keep away from his very-uninvolved-in-mob-shit partner, and yet still, he'd sought her out pre-auction to taunt her. And this is why the Russians would never fucking learn. They always had to make shit personal. Weaving through a few drunk hookers, the Frenchman subtly switched his two Commandant rings onto his right hand.

"I warned you to stay away from Leyla. Evidently, you're too dumb a cunt to listen."

The Russian hardly had time to acknowledge he was being addressed before Laurent's silver and gold adorned fist collided hard with his jaw. Enough to do real damage? Nah. He wasn't looking to get kicked out. Enough to send him stumbling a few steps back into the bar, the girls around him shrieking in surprise? Yes.

"Next time, I'll kick your fucking teeth down your throat."

[emine--yalaz]

Where: Haringey When: May 10, 2023 Who: @maksimkurylenko

“If I wanted you dead, you’d be by now.” Annoyance evident in her tone. “You have until tomorrow to get me my money, otherwise you will be dead.” Her words were warning enough for them to know she would act on them. 

The petite Turk turns away, finding a body in front of her. “A wanted man." Chocolate hues rake over the Russian before she steps around him, sliding back into her chair.

[leylayilmazx]

☎

NAME: Murderer #5

PICTURE: 

LAST TEXT SENT:

N/A: WHY WOULD SHE TEXT HIM, SHE DOESN'T HAVE A DEATH WISH!!

[lararutherford]

☎

NAME: Maksim Kurylenko. RINGTONE: Standard. PHOTO:

LAST PICTURE SENT:

none.

LAST TEXT SENT:

> I saw a building on fire today and it made me think of Vorya. > Such fond memories. > Hope you're all well.

[lefebvre-emilia]

When: Sept 29th, 2023 Where: Park in Camden Who: @maksimkurylenko

The sun was finally out and she couldn't pass up the opportunity to take Édith out to the park. Get out of the house and feel some normalcy in her life. They had a nice small picnic and when she saw it was getting closer to dinner time, she packed up their belongings, making their way back to the SUV.

With the driver in the front, Édith buckled in the back, Emilia did a once over to make sure they had everything. "Teddy." She glances around, not seeing the bear. Even at three weeks old, Édith would only calm with certain things, and the bear was one of them. Taking a second to think, she knew exactly where it was.

"I'll be right back. The bear is on the bench." The driver nodded at her, one bodyguard sat with the baby, and the other gave her that look. "I'll be two minutes, I'll be fine." There was no harm going to fetch the stuffy. Even when she made her direction down the path, she could feel him twenty yards behind her.

She came around the small bend, emerald hues widening when she saw him standing there, the bear in hand. It took all her will power not to want to end his life.

"That is mine." She states, straightening her body, a cold glare narrowing at him.

[maksimkurylenko]

MAKSIM KURYLENKO : CAMP OUT. 24'

[david-pavoncello]

etienne-canet​:

Maks’ eyes narrowed at David’s boldness, his calm demeanor barely masking the simmering anger that was boiling and bubbling. Taking a step closer, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Careful.” He tutted, his gaze remaining soley on David. “You don’t want to push me too far,” he warned, his gaze flickering over David’s shoulder to the Russians standing behind him, and then back to Étienne.

He didn’t fear David, but he did fear Étienne.

Maksim observed for a moment as a mocking grin flashed across his lips, the strategic planning already kicking into gear. Ways out, ways in. He was always calculating, mind racing with the potential outcomes of this confrontation. He knew that the stakes were high, they had been since their pulled stunt at the docks. Oh, Vika.

With each passing moment, the room seemed to hold still, waiting for the clash of wills to ignite the powder keg. Keeping his composure, Maksim leaned back against the bar, gaze locked onto Étienne’s. “I have no problem discussing matters in a more private setting,” he replied, his voice steady despite the tension lacing his words. “We can step outside and settle this like civilized men. No need for unnecessary bloodshed.”

But they knew that was bullshit.

“Heard you went nomad, gave a little taste to one of them.” The Rutherfords. The heavy weight of the blade he kept in his pocket reminded him he wasn’t without protection, and he eyed the men telling them to stay back. He didn’t want a brawl, not here, at least.

Maksim stopped as he turned to the back door, a taunting smirk on his lips as he gave David a once over. “Is it not past your bedtime, kid?” He gestured for David to stay behind. “You need a puppy to help you out, Étienne?”

“Nothing that wasn’t deserved,” Étienne assured Maks, his own features remaining passive. He wasn’t sure if was an attempt to get under his skin, to let him know he knew what had been happening, but the Frenchman didn’t care. If the Russians wanted him out of the picture, they take a shot at him on the street. They wouldn’t pawn him off to the Police. Not that Lin would testify. “The Italian comes with,” Étienne responded shortly as Maks tried to indicate he would be left out of the conversation. It wasn’t a debate. “If you have a complaint, I’ll file it away under who gives a shit. You people are the reason they’re here in the first place.”

The well-dressed Frenchman opened up the back door of the bar, the dim sunlight streaming through the doorway, illuminating the figures as they made their way to the alley out back. He held it open for the two other men, the manners engrained in him from a very young age.

Ét’s men, upon watching their leader leave, finished their drinks, rose to their feet, and made their way toward the front, shooting dirty looks at the Russian associates as they did so, but nothing more. Their instructions had been clear– they were not to throw the first fist, no matter what was given as a provocation.

-

David took the opportunity to finish his drink, not one to waste alcohol, even if it was tainted by Russian hands. He places the empty glass down on the bar, knowing that in minutes the whole place would burn and it left a satisfying feeling. He felt no remorse for those that occupied this shithole, each, regardless of not being involved, owed their lives for the loss of his mother. A fire blazed in his amber hues and the corners of his mouth twitched into a knowing smirk.

“Careful Kurylenko, hate for you to see how hard I bite.” It took every restraint in his body not to show the Russian how hard he could hit, knowing the deal he made with the Frenchman about not being the first to throw a punch. He tipped his chin up, giving the signal for the Italians to vacate the premises. Dark vengeful hues glance back at the kitchen before he steps around Maksim making his way out into the alley.

The rest of the Italians followed after him, fanning out around them. He leans his shoulders back against the cement wall of the opposite building, the bottom of his foot lifting to push into the surface. Intent orbs watch the rest of them coming out, not able to keep his smirk plastered on his features. In his head he was already counting down until he would feel that sweet taste of revenge engulf him.

"I think you should ask yourself why we don't knock you the fuck out and take you back to the French." There was a target out on certain Russians, the same ones he would love to have a few moments with himself to let his wrath free. "Be grateful we are playing nice." For now.

David gave a nonchalant shrug to his shoulders when the Russian realised who he had brought and the comment. The Italian didn't give a shit, and when the night was over, this place would be up flames and smoke -- how it should be for all the pieces of shits that walked this borough. Their blood would make up for what he lost.

His eyes flickered between the two, knowing that all parities would leave unharmed, for the time being, when this was over with; at least on their side. "My mom always said that was my downfall. I don't know what she was talking about." He was speaking of Alessia, and she may have said that a time or two, a hand coming up to slide his finger along the chain he wore with his cross and pendant.

"We all have friends that want to meet, all depends on how many of them you are willing to lose." The Italian takes a sip of his drink, turning his attention back to the Kurylenko. "Are we going to have this conversation here?" He raised a brow. "I have no qualm airing your dirty laundry for all to hear." He stated bluntly. "I don't know how you feel about it."

[cassandra-acton]

@maksimkurylenko Location: Vorya. Dated: 30/9/23.

"I can't be here, Jess." "Why?" "You know why. It's Russian. Clue is in the name, you dumb slut." "So what? It's just a bar, Cass. Chill out..." "A bar full of fucking Russians."

Maybe she could've made that disdainful comment with an inside voice...

When her best friend had mentioned a night out on the town, this wasn't exactly what the politician had in mind. So ready to make the most of Silas looking after the kiddos, though, she'd stupidly asked too few questions from a best friend who would've walked into a burning building if she thought the drinks were good enough. The blonde briefly glanced over a bare shoulder, anxiety settling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of catching sight of a familiar face. Lo and fucking behold, the worst one imaginable was outside taking a smoke break.

And before she could look away, their eyes met. And then he was walking their way.

If looks could kill, Jess would never know reincarnation. She'd be dead forever.

Voice lowered to a hushed tone, lest he overhear: "I'm going to push you onto a tube line later. I know you think I'm joking but like actually."

[ayda--demir]

Who: @maksimkurylenko Where:

She hadn't talked to Maksim since new year's eve. The night was quieter than she was expecting and she was home soon after the bar closed. There were times she contemplated messaging him again, but with everything going on with all sides, she sort of spent some time hidden in the background. Turning her attention back to her community; reminding herself what mattered to her.

Ayda had bought a few items from the market, making her way back down the street to the bakery. Over the last several months she had slowly renovated the apartment over top and moved in. Debt was screaming at her, and selling her flat, it allowed her to pay off most of all the debt and keep some in a savings account for a rainy day.

Coming around the corner, she halted in her steps to stop from colliding into a body, widening hues looking up at the face.

"Maks," a small smile pulls on her features.

[emine--yalaz]

Where: Russian Halloween Party Who: @maksimkurylenko

The smirk on Emine's face widens when she catches sight of Maksim, sauntering in his direction. "Who knew you guys could throw a party." She teases him, holding out a drink. "Are you having fun?"