Page 51 of Brazen King

She looks me up and down, a hint of curiosity flickering behind her stylish dark-rimmed glasses.

“I’m here to see Mr. Sokolov,” I state confidently, leaning one elbow on the counter as Lance looms obtrusively behind me.

Her eyes flick quickly in his direction, a hint of nervousness trickling into her gaze. Then she refocuses her attention on me. “Does he know you’re coming?” she asks.

“I thought I might surprise him,” I tease with a cocky grin.

“Just one moment.” She lifts the receiver from her desk phone and dials a four-digit number, then turns away from me, covering the mouthpiece with her hand as she holds a muffled conversation with whoever picks up. Finally, after stuttering several apologies, she hangs up and turns back toward me. “Unfortunately, he’s…busy at the moment,” she hedges.

But I can tell from the flush in her cheeks that the response she received was far less polite than that.

“Iinsist,” I say, leaning further across the desk. “Please, just call him back one more time. Tell him it’s a matter of importance.”

“I-I…” The receptionist looks painfully uncomfortable at the thought of disturbing him again.

But when Lance cracks his knuckles and takes a step forward, she releases a shaky breath and grabs the phone to redial.

“Hi, yes, it’s Victoria again…” she says nervously. “Yes, I know. I—” She glances in my direction, the color slowly draining from her cheeks.

And before she can stop me or hang up, I pluck the phone from her hand.

“I would think that sparing the bastards who smashed up my club yesterday might earn me a modicum of good will. But if we need to come to a new understanding, that can be arranged,” I state calmly, watching Victoria squirm beneath my gaze.

“Thepakhanhas more important matters to attend to than an insufferable pest like you.”

I recognize the low, vitriolic voice as Maksim’s immediately.

“Maybe, but since you made such a good errand boy yesterday, I trust you can deliver one more message to your boss. And I suspect he’ll want to hear that I came to negotiate a peace.”

Crackling issues across the line as Maksim releases a heavy breath. Then, a grudging, “Fine.”

Several seconds of silence follow, and I offer Victoria a wink as we wait.

Finally, Maksim comes back on, and I can hear the aggravation in his tone. “Give the phone back to the receptionist. Men will be down momentarily to escort you up.”

I do as he commanded, passing the phone back to the terrified-looking receptionist. She stutters a quick acknowledgment before hanging up. Then she gestures toward the bank of elevators.

“You’ll want the last one on the left,” she says.

“Much obliged,” I say, tipping an imaginary hat at her before strolling toward the lift she indicated.

Lance follows wordlessly, and within minutes, we’re riding the elevator up to the Sokolov penthouse with four burlyRussians. Between them and the considerable frames of me and Lance, the confined space feels less than ideal. And it doesn’t help that they all scowl at us, their arms crossed in a blatant display of intimidation.

Maksim is among them, and I tease him with a bit of light chitchat—none of which he responds to, preferring to stay in sullen silence as he glares at me through his one good eye. The other is still swollen shut, the bruising turning nearly half his face a deep shade of purplish blue.

“Has someone looked at that?” I ask, pointing at his black eye. “It’s not pretty, my friend.”

Maksim’s jaw ticks, the tendons popping beneath his skin as he grinds his teeth visibly. But before he can respond, the doors open onto the rather impressive entry of the Sokolov home.

And Boris is already waiting for me.

His expression is nothing short of hostile, and he greets me stiffly, his gray eyes—just like Natasha’s—cold and steely in his suspicion.

“Shall we go to my office for this…meeting you’ve insisted upon?” he suggests.

“After you,” I say, gesturing to indicate I’ll follow.

He leads the way, and I can’t help but glance around, taking in the pristine marble floors, the vaulted ceilings, the floor-to-ceiling windows that stretch across one entire wall and look out on the bustling city.

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