Page 47 of Maxim

It’s been four days since I brought Thea in to watch Olena. The first three, I lingered outside, unable to leave Olena alone. I can’t keep pushing off her father, though. I know they have to be wondering what happened to me.

That’s why I’m here.

Tension rolls through me as the guards check me over for weapons. I haven’t shown my face since Olena tried to take her life, and it will either work in my favor or against me.

Only one way to find out.

When the guards step back, signaling that I’m clean, the man at the desk hits a button, opening the door. The music is toned down compared to other times I’ve been here, making it feel like my senses aren’t being attacked. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot her father keeping court with a group of men, smoking cigars.

I force myself to head to the bar instead of heading right over to him. The last thing I need is to look eager.

“What can I get you?” the woman behind the bar asks, keeping her head down.

“Best vodka you have.”

While she pours my drink, I study the room in the glass mirror behind the bar. It’s definitely less crowded than it typically is.

This must be the normal clientele, the ones who get the first call.

The bartender comes back, and I force myself to look away from my marks.

“Thank you,” I say as I lift the glass.

“Mr. Boyko, come join us!” Jan says.

Gritting my teeth, I force myself to smile and try and look relaxed when I’m anything but.

“Good to see you again,” I say as I approach.

None of the men bother to stand as I join them.

“Sit. Sit,” Olena’s father says as he waves toward a chair directly across from him. “Gentleman, meet Maxim Boyko. He’s the one who bought my daughter.”

One of the men groans as he tips his head back. “You lucky bastard.”

I force a smirk. “I know it.”

He reaches over and introduces himself. “Samuel Collins.”

“Nice to meet you.”

The man’s name isn’t familiar. I don’t think he’s even been on our radar, which is suspicious enough. What is he doing here? I file away his name and try to subtly take in everything about him so I can describe him later.

“Speaking of Jan…don’t think I didn’t notice that your children have Ukrainian names instead of Polish,” the man who I’ve never seen before says.

Jan smirks. “Yes, well, let’s just say that I have a soft spot for Ukrainian women. I figured it was the least I could do before getting rid of their mothers.”

The other men chuckle, and I force myself to play along.

Sick fuck.

“So, how did you punish her?” Jan asks, leaning forward. Before I can respond, he tells the others, “Olena escaped his hold and came running home. I had to make an example of her.”

“How did she escape?” Samuel asks, eyes lit with curiosity.

“She escaped through a window.”

“That’s it? You didn’t have her under lock and key?” a man who I don’t know asks.

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