Page 46 of Maximus

Sokolov grabbed her arm. He jerked her closer and hissed, “The boss is here. If he hears anything about what happened at your apartment, I’ll kill you and then your boyfriend.” His hand tightened around her arm.

“Elena, darling. There you are.” The woman she knew as Val walked up to her, smiling. She glanced at Sokolov and then down to his hand on her upper arm. “Is there a problem here? Should I call security?”

Sokolov blinked at the rare beauty in front of him. Elena could tell he was mesmerized by the woman’s absolute radiance. Her white gown, white hair, and diamonds at her neck, dangling from her ears and clasped at her wrists, made her appear to be the winter snow maiden or Snegurochka. She looked like the pictures she’d seen in her children’s books. All that was missing was a white fur hat and coat.

The woman frowned. “Please release my friend before I contact security.”

Sokolov dropped his grip and bowed before throwing Elena a warning glance and walking away. Elena rubbed her arm, looking around to see if anyone else had noticed. “Thank you. I didn’t see him come in, and your Russian is excellent.”

“Thank you, and I saw him come in and make a direct line toward you. I’d hoped to intervene before he could get to you.” Val took two glasses of champagne from a passing tray and handed her one.

A sudden hush from the crowd turned Elena. “Ah, my employer,” she said as she accepted the champagne.

Val turned to look at the man. “The man of the hour.”

“How much longer?” she asked.

“Not long. A white jacket, black slacks, and shoes. Black shirt and white tie,” the woman described what her boss was wearing.

Elena frowned and looked at Val. “What?”

“Just admiring his taste in clothes. The black trifold kerchief in the jacket is impressive.”

Elena frowned. “Somehow, I feel you’re talking around things like Max does.”

Val looked at her and smiled. “I think you’ll do. You’re sharp.”

“Sharp?” Elena asked.

“Smart, on the ball,” Val clarified. “I’ll keep you in sight. Max needs you now.” She moved away as Max walked up to her from behind. “I’d like you to introduce me now.”

Elena set the entire flute of champagne on the tray of a server as they passed. “Sokolov warned me not to say anything about what happened in the apartment.”

Max growled. A low, menacing sound only she could hear. “Val rescued me from him.” She patted his arm as they walked the length of the venue.

They approached the group of people surrounding Abrasha. He was holding court. That was what she always called it. Now, she understood the fear in people’s eyes. Now, she knew those people didn’t accept the invitations because they wanted to be there. They accepted because not coming could lead to complications should Abrasha become upset. It was as if a filmcovering her perception had been peeled back, and she could see the truth instead of the story she’d believed.

When she could, she interjected, “Sir, may I introduce you to Max Stryker.”

Abrasha turned to Max and smiled, extending his hand in the western custom. “A pleasure. I understand you’re very influential in the art world.”

All heads turned toward Max. He took Abrasha’s hand, speaking with his American-tinged Russian accent. “A pleasure to meet you, sir. I also have the pleasure of telling you my boss will be here in about fifteen minutes and would like to meet with you about a certain investment.”

“Perfect.” Abrasha almost shouted the word. “This is something I’m very excited about. You’ll inform me when the prince has arrived?”

Max’s eyes darted from Abrasha to the crowd around him. “Ah …”

“Do not worry. I have security, and no one here woulddarerepeat anything I say. Am I right?” He laughed and made a grandiose gesture as he turned to the crowd. A nervous ripple ran through the crowd, along with smattered words of agreement.

Max cocked his head to the left, and Elena felt her pulse quicken. That brilliant mind of Max’s was processing. He lifted his chin and stated, “My employer is a private man, regardless of your assurances. Perhaps this was a mistake.”

The humor on Abrasha’s face fell away immediately. “Do not call off this meeting.” Elena watched the crowd drift away. No, ran away. Everyone except Abrasha’s bodyguards pretended to find the paintings suddenly interesting.

Max cleared his throat and squared his shoulders as if trying to give himself strength. “Do not broadcast my employer’s title around as if it were a trophy for you to hoist in the air, sir.”

Elena watched Max’s eyes dart around nervously. So did Abrasha. The man smiled evilly. “If you insist.”

Max nodded and then looked at her. “Would you like a refreshment, my dear?”

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