Chapter 29 Grace
GRACE
Maxim proposed.
I can’t believe he went down on bended knee and proposed.
Does he not think we’re going to make it?
Positive thinking, Grace. You’ve got this.
You are strong. You can conquer anything especially with Maxim by your side.
My knee keeps bouncing uncontrollably the whole way to the ball.
Even Maxim’s hand on it hasn’t been able to make it stop.
“Grace, I know you’re scared. But you’re going to have to calm down otherwise they’ll know something’s up. These people are the worst people in Russia—if not the world—they can sense when something is off.”
I take a couple of deep breaths. “But Dmitri knows I’m scared of him. He thrives on it.”
“You’re right. He would probably suspect something is off if you weren’t.”
“Here.” Sergei passes something through the partition. “Suck on this.”
“I don’t think candy is going to calm her down,” Maxim says dryly. “It will when it’s pot candy.” Sergei laughs.
“What! Are you crazy? Don’t eat it,” Maxim yells at me, but I’m
too quick and pop it in my mouth.
“Fuck, Grace. Seriously, spit it out. Now!”
I shake my head.
“If I didn’t need you right now, old man, I would fucking shoot you. She’s a recovering drug addict.”
“Shit.” Sergei looks at Grace apologetically. “It’s not strong stuff, but it will take the edge off, so she isn’t so … you know, fucking freaked out.”
“I was addicted to prescription drugs, Max. Not this stuff,” I say.
The candy tastes funny, and I’m not sure if it’s working, but my knee has stopped shaking so that’s a good thing.
“Grace.” Maxim looks at me, and I can see the pleading in his eyes—he’s worried.
I take another good couple of sucks of the candy and grab a tissue from the limousine door, wrapping the candy up in it. He’s right, I need to keep my wits about me.
“Thank you,” Maxim says.
“It’s showtime, kids—we’re here,” Sergei says. “I’ll be with the car, listening in on everything, okay? Good luck, be good, save the day.”
Sergei gets out and opens the door for me. “Good luck, princess.” He kisses my cheek while holding the door open for us and turns and gives Maxim’s hand a stern shake. Even though Sergei is joking around, I can see the worry in his eyes.
“You ready?” Maxim asks.
I can do this, I can do this, I chant to myself.
“Yes.” I link my arm with his.
“Now remember, tonight we are not Maxim and Grace. We are
master and jewel.”
I take a deep breath. I understand what he means. I need to act the
part of a slave.
I take in the imposing palace before us.
The marble columns shoot up to the sky, and the gold leaf wraps around the building, showing off impressive wealth.
I could imagine back in the day people would attend balls here, but instead of the palace being filled with criminals, it would have been filled with aristocrats.
I watch as people arrive, women in jewels, furs, and couture gowns, and men dressed in tuxedos worth tens of thousands of dollars.
Maxim urges me up the grand staircase. Security is tight as we enter, men with M16s standing at the entrance guarding it.
We stand in line as they mark off everyone’s name.
The doorman looks up and nods at Maxim, obviously recognizing him, then looks at me.
There are a few moments of silence before he lets us pass.
“My heart is racing. I thought he was going to stop us,” I whisper to Maxim.
“It’s okay, the guy just wanted a few moments to check out your tits.”
I turn to him, shocked, which makes him laugh.
“Did you not notice? He was pretending to look for your name while he stole glances at you. I was ready to punch him, but we needed to get into the ball.”
We stand at the entrance and before us is a grand ballroom with hundreds of people mingling and dancing. There are tables set up for dinner, floral centerpieces dominating each.
Maxim takes my hand, and we walk down the staircase.
I already feel the eyes of the ball on me. I forget how powerful Maxim is in this world.
I hear Damon’s voice in my ear. “Grace, you’re doing good.”
I’ve forgotten they’re listening in on everything. Luckily, there was no dirty talk between Maxim and me in the limousine.
“Thanks,” I say, walking down the stairs, hoping I don’t fall down them.
“Everything is working perfectly. We’re scanning people’s faces as you go and getting hits left, right, and center.”
“I need a drink,” Maxim says, so we head toward the bar.
I can see people eyeing Maxim as he walks; the men instantly part and let him pass, and the women, well, they are eye fucking him. Then they notice me, and the daggers come out. Everyone is talking Russian, and I realize I don’t understand a thing.
We stop at the bar and Maxim orders.
“Grace,” Damon whispers in my ear, which makes me jump, but thankfully no one is looking at me, they’re too busy chatting with Maxim.
“I forgot to turn on the translator in your ear. When you’re within two meters of someone it will translate for you.
You’ll be able to hear it in one ear, and me in the other. Is it working?”
I take a couple of deep breaths and try to listen in on what the men are saying.
“How are things going with Dmitri?” the larger guy asks Maxim.
“I believe he’s making some progress with finding the jewels,” Maxim answers the man seriously.
“Do you think he’ll find them?”
Maxim shakes his head.
“Fucking little shit. The six-month deadline still stands—if my nephew hasn’t found them by then you have my permission to kill him.”
I try not to flinch at that statement. Dmitri’s own uncle wants him dead.
Then I notice the man’s eyes on me.
“Who’s the girl?” he asks.
“That is my ... pet.” Maxim lets the words hang between us as he rubs my cheek with his thumb.
“Is this a pet you share?” the older man asks.
I hate the way he looks at me.
“You know I don’t play well with others,” Maxim jokes, slapping him on the shoulder in a friendly way.
“True. That’s why you’re the best.” The man smiles at him. “Well, if you change your mind or get sick of her, you know where I am.” The man smiles at me and walks away.
Maxim picks up his glass of whiskey from the bar, throws it back, and then asks for another.
“Maxim.” I tug on his tuxedo jacket.
He ignores me, knocking back the second shot of whiskey. He seems agitated.
“Maxim,” I try again, and he finally looks at me. “Are you okay?” I whisper.
He brings his lips to mine and kisses me. He tastes like whiskey as his tongue twirls with mine. Then he moves away but pulls me close, his lips against my ear.
“That was Dmitri’s uncle,” he whispers.
“I know.”
He looks at me strangely.
“Damon turned my translator on.”
“I just lied to his face, Grace. If he’d found out you’re a jewel, you would have been taken right then and there. He is the Pakhan, one of the big bosses—you don’t say no to him and live to talk about it.” Maxim turns to the barman. “Glass of champagne for the lady, please.”
Moments later, he hands it to me.
“Thank you.” I take a sip to calm my nerves.
“Like I said, Grace, I will protect you. Now, maybe we should find our table and sit.”
We take a couple of steps away from the bar, but Maxim is stopped by a beautiful blonde.
“Maxim,” she purrs, and my hackles stand to attention. I don’t like the way she is looking at my fiancé as if she is about to sink her teeth into him.
I move around and link my arm with his.
Her eyes flare in anger.
“Mrs. Smirnov, how are we this evening?” Maxim says politely in Russian.
Then he introduces us in English. “Grace, this is Mrs. Smirnov, the wife of one of my bosses.”
She gives me a fake smile, but her eyes tell me all I need to know— she isn’t happy about me being Maxim’s date. I hope he hasn’t fucked her.
“So nice to meet you. Maxim rarely brings a date to these things.” Her English is laced with a thick Russian accent.
“Well, I feel honored to be on his arm,” I reply, giving her an equal
measure of fakeness. I turn my hand over and make sure the light catches the stunning diamond ring.
Her eyes catch the glittering stone, and she looks shocked. “Are you engaged?” she asks in Russian.
“Yes, I am. I’m a very lucky man,” Maxim replies in English, looking at me adoringly.
“Congratulations. Never thought Maxim would settle down. He likes variety too much,” the woman says.
My fingers dig into Maxim’s arm. “Lucky I’m multitalented then,” I reply. I cannot believe the gall of this lady.
Her eyes narrow at me, but she ignores my barb.
“Call me when you get bored,” she whispers to Maxim in Russian.
He looks at me and can see I’m about ready to blow my stack.
“She is all I need. No one could ever compete,” he says back in English.
Good man.
Mrs. Smirnov turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd.
“Please tell me you did not sleep with that woman?”
Maxim gives me a look.
“Seriously? Her?”
“Um.” He looks around. “Her husband gave her to me.”
“What?” I don’t mean to raise my voice, and a couple of people turn to see where it came from.
Maxim glares at me for creating a scene.
“And you took him up on it?”
“He likes to watch her fuck other men.” Thankfully he looks suitably embarrassed by his confession. “It’s a lonely business, doing what I do. It had been a while since I’d been laid, so ... you know.”
“How many times?” I can feel a pit of jealousy sinking in my stomach.
He lets out a sigh. “A couple. But that was before you, Grace.” He looks at me seriously.
“I know you had a life before me. Just tonight, I wasn’t prepared for it.”
“I’m sorry, my love,” he says, taking my hand and kissing it.
“Ladies and gentlemen, dinner will be served in the ballroom. Please take your seats.”
I take Maxim’s hand, hating the fact that I ran into one of his ex-lovers as if tonight isn’t a huge mind fuck already.
No one likes to know that another person has been intimate with your partner.
I shake off the feeling and follow him to our seats.
He pulls out a chair for me and takes the one beside me.
He then pours me a glass of wine and we wait to be joined by the rest of the table.
I look around the room, hoping this stupid tiara is picking up everything. I try to take in as much as I can.
A bowl of red soup is placed before me for the first course.
“This is borscht, traditional beetroot and red cabbage soup,” Maxim explains to me.
Okay, that seems fine to eat. I’m not that adventurous when it comes to my food.
I take a couple of mouthfuls, and it isn’t too bad, but then I lose my appetite altogether as the devil appears at our table.
My spoon clatters against the bowl. My heart is racing; this cannot be happening to me.
You knew it was going to happen, Grace. This is the entire point you are here.
Maxim’s hand finds my knee under the table and gives me a squeeze.
The devil sits down as if he doesn’t have a care in the world and starts to chat animatedly with everyone at the table. He soon has them cracking up with some stupid joke in Russian, but I don’t hear it because I’m freaking out.
Maxim knows he cannot comfort me the way he wants to, not in front of Dmitri.
Tonight, I’m his mission, his job, not the love of his life.
“You’re looking as beautiful as ever, Diamond.” Dmitri grins from across the table.
Of course, he would use my jewel name, taunting me, telling everyone sitting here where my place is among them, which is on the bottom.
“Diamond?” one of the men says, looking intrigued.
Maxim squeezes my leg again. There’s probably going to be a bruise tomorrow, but I don’t care. He needs me to be Diamond for him, otherwise it will blow everything.
Dmitri is watching Maxim and me intensely. He smiles. “Yes, she is one of the famous Bratva Jewels.”
The table falls into a hush as they stare at me.
“I’m surprised that Maxim did not tell you all about her. I know if I had a jewel on my arm, I would be very proud.”
He probably thinks Maxim has kept me locked up in a cell somewhere, waiting for his instructions.
I decide to make it known to him that we have been intimate. I put on my most flirtatious voice and say, “Maxim doesn’t like to share,” as I run my hand up and down his arm, feeling the tension radiate through him.
“Oh, really now?” Dmitri’s attention turns to Maxim. He’s looking at him differently. “He’s a lucky man. I know if you were mine, I wouldn’t want to share, either.” The meaning of his statement comes through loud and clear—he thinks I am his, not Maxim’s, and he’s going to stake his claim over me.
“I think I remember our time differently then.” I rub myself along Maxim’s arm. “You liked to share me with many.”
Maxim tenses at my words, but only I notice it.
Dmitri is glaring at me, his lip curling as he stares. He clearly doesn’t like me calling him out.
An older gentleman turns to me, missing the tension that is radiating between Maxim and Dmitri. “I can’t believe you’re one of the famous jewels.” He no longer sees me as Maxim’s respectable date, all he sees are the parts of me that he wants. I’m just anatomy to him.
“I’m excited to be here. It’s rare that I’m let off my leash.”
The men all chuckle at my joke, but the women just glare.
I suspect they know exactly what their disgusting husbands get up to. I mean, these women are half the men’s ages.
“Diamond was always very fond of the leash,” Dmitri says.
Maxim jerks beside me at that comment. I grab his arm again, letting my fingers dig into his bulging bicep, hoping to calm him down.
“Maxim is a very good master, and I’m thankful every day that he found me.”
I’m hoping he can read between the lines. I need him to calm down.
“Wow, Maxim, you’re going to have to tell me your secret. I could never tame her the way you seem to have. Maybe I need to learn from the master.” Dmitri says the words slowly, his lip curling over the word “master”.
Maxim growls under his breath.
“That might be a good idea, your skills are lacking in that department, Dmitri,” I say, adding fuel to the fire.
Dmitri’s hand has turned white from gripping his glass too hard, and his face is turning a nice shade of red, but he’s trying to contain himself.
Then I hear Maxim gasp as if he has seen a ghost.
And he has.
It’s her.