Page 95 of Savage Vows
Oleg pulls up in front of Portello, and even from the car, the bass-heavy thrum of music is unmistakable. The neon sign glows electric blue above the door, reflecting off polished black glass. A line of guests snakes along the velvet rope, some laughing, some already drunk, all of them dressed to be noticed. Spotlights sweep the sidewalk, painting everyone in quick flashes of pink and gold.
Inside, the air is thick with perfume and sweat, music pulsing through the floor and up into my bones. Light glances off glass and chrome, barbacks weaving through the crowd with trays of glowing drinks. Everyone is beautiful, dressed to be seen, pressed close together in a tangle of skin and silk and cologne.
We barely make it past the velvet rope when Maksim spots us from the balcony above. His expression flickers between confusion and something else which is quickly replaced by an easy smile as he heads toward us.
Maksim’s attention is split between Dante and me, but he’s quick to hide his surprise under that smooth club-owner charm. “I hope you’re here to enjoy yourselves,” he says. “It’s been a while since we had both Petrov and Volkov royalty in one room.”
I force a polite smile, nerves buzzing. “Actually, Maksim, I was hoping you could help me with something.”
He arches a brow. “For you, Adriana, anything. What do you need?”
“I want to see the security footage from last month. You keep everything, right?”
He glances at Dante, then back at me, his smile slipping for half a second. “That’s a very specific request. But…I’m afraid there’s a problem. We had a system crash a few days ago. Most of the footage from the past couple months is gone—corrupted beyond repair. Some files survived, but they’re patchy. You’re welcome to look, but I doubt you’ll find what you’re after.”
I study him, trying to read what he isn’t saying, but his expression is pure innocence. “Show me what you do have,” I say. “Please.”
He gestures for us to follow. “Of course. Right this way.”
As we move toward the back offices, I catch Dante’s eye. His jaw is set, watching Maksim closely. I know he feels the same thing I do; this isn’t just bad luck. Someone wanted those tapes gone.
Maksim gestures to the bar as we pass, offering a glass of something amber and expensive. “Drink?” he asks, all politeness and old-world hospitality.
I shake my head, my stomach twisting. “No, thank you. Not tonight.”
He watches me for a moment, then shrugs, leading us toward the quieter end of the club. Once Dante is distracted by a bouncer asking about VIP security, Maksim leans in, voice low. “Adriana, what are you really doing here? Is this about your sister?”
For a second, my heart stutters. He still thinks I’m searching for Julianne. “I…I just need some closure. That’s all.”
Maksim’s eyes narrow, searching my face. “Julianne was never here. Not that I saw, anyway. Don’t tell your father I said that. But the guy she was seeing—he came around plenty.
I blink, surprised. “You know about Luka?”
He raises a brow. “Strange that she told you. Julianne was secretive about him. Never introduced us, never talked about him in front of anyone. How did you hear about him?”
I force a casual shrug, hoping he can’t read my nerves. “Julianne told me. Eventually. She didn’t want to keep it a secret forever.”
He studies me, then gives a slow smile. “You Petrova girls are always better at hiding things than you look.”
I lean in, pressing Maksim just a little. “So what else do you know about Luka?”
He gives a tight smile. “Not as much as I’d like. Listen—I’ll have my security guy find you if you want to ask more.” With that, he nods, then disappears into the crowd, already moving on.
Dante appears at my side, brow raised. “What were you two talking about?”
I keep my voice casual, watching Maksim’s retreating back. “Just Julianne. He still seems a little hung up, honestly.”
Dante shrugs, a little smirk on his lips. “Really? I always thought Maksim had his eye on someone else.”
I open my mouth to reply, but my attention snags on a familiar figure in the crowd—a flash of Mik’s face in the shifting lights. My heart jumps. He sees me, then his gaze lands on Dante, and he immediately tries to disappear into the dance floor.
I don’t hesitate. I slip away from Dante and chase after Mik, weaving between groups of club-goers, catching him by the arm near the exit.
He jerks away, eyes wild. “Stay away from me, crazy lady,” he hisses, voice panicked. “You want to get me killed? Your husband will kill me.”
I’m confused. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t need any trouble. Listen, you should have told me who you were before you started the mess.”
