Chapter 14 #2
The space around us comes alive, buzzing with the crew doing whatever it is that they need to do, but Kira and I don’t move as I watch her for a reaction. The weight of the past clings to me, making it hard to breathe.
“What do you know about my first wife?” My tone is arctic.
She seems to realize she wandered into very ugly territory, whether on purpose or not. “Forget I said that.” She swallows, quickly sliding off my lap. “I was making a point.”
My jaw tightens. “Never bring her up again.”
Kira shoots me a defiant look and then strides away to join Maria. I take a moment to rise, straightening my cufflinks, smoothing down my tie.
When I look up, Nadya watches from the sidelines. Maria might have missed this interaction, but Nadya hasn’t missed a thing. She never does. She cocks her head as if to ask, Do we have a problem?
Of all the people that know my personal history, Nadya is the most protective of me. Maybe because she saw the true devastation and raw grief from that time, how the only way to survive was to close my heart, harden the shell around my soul, and attempt to carry on.
I clear my throat and give a slight shake of my head. I don’t need Nadya running interference. I can handle Kira all on my own.
Except when I can’t. Like when she's grinding on my dick in a room full of people.
Well, two can play that game, and I'm more than capable of matching her step for step.
KIRA
Maybe I should have considered my devious little plan more carefully because it wasn't just Maxim who got all worked up—I was feeling rather needy myself. In fact, everyone in the room seemed a bit hot and bothered.
Of course, Maxim doused the heat of the moment when I mentioned his first wife. I guess it makes sense to not want to discuss the woman you killed. Whatever, if you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.
I don’t have time to stew over his words because Maria is already settling into the sitting room, where tea and refreshments are set up.
Poised, she takes a seat first, smoothing out her skirt before reaching into her bag and pulling out a digital recorder, which she places in the middle of the coffee table.
"Mind if I record this?" she asks. “So I don’t miss anything.”
“That’s fine.” I lower myself onto the plush loveseat beside Maxim, leaving a small gap between us—a careful space that speaks volumes.
Maxim is not having it. This time, he’s the one to close the distance between us, sliding towards me so that our legs are touching.
Still irked by his reaction to my mentioning his first wife, I shoot him a look that says, Back off.
Maxim is unfazed by my annoyance. He flashes one of his panty-melting smiles and drapes an arm casually around my shoulders.
I stiffen at the unexpected intimacy, but with Maria sitting across from us grinning from ear to ear, I can’t knee him in the balls, so I do my best to relax.
“Alright,” Maria begins, looking between us with keen interest. “Let’s get started.” She presses the record button. “I think the first question on everyone’s mind is: how did you two meet? As I understand it, Kira was living in America at the time.”
“I have connections to Kira’s family in the US,” Maxim says, keeping it vague.
“We met when I was in New York last winter, and when Kira visited Russia a few months later, I invited her to stay at my Black Sea home.” I scoff quietly.
This version of events is so far from the truth it's almost comical.
Maxim's hand drops to my knee, giving it a subtle squeeze in warning.
“It was there that we really got to know each other,” Maxim continues.
“We spent hours strolling through my vineyard, enjoying picnics on the beach, spending time together.”
Maria writes something in her notebook, shaking her head. “What a romantic you’re turning out to be. Kira, were you surprised by the softer side of the famous Maxim Belov?”
“Was I ever,” I say emphatically. "The Maxim I know is quite different from the one everyone else sees."
Maria smiles knowingly. “Tell me something surprisingly romantic Maxim did during your courtship.”
"Oh, we can't give away all our secrets," he jumps in before I can say anything. "Some things are just for us." His words are sweet, but his eyes flash with warning as he lifts my hand and drops a kiss on the inside of my wrist, sending an involuntary shiver up my arm.
I push aside the fluttering sensation in my belly. “Oh, come on, don’t be coy. We can share a few things.” I give him a sugary sweet grin before I address Maria again. “Maxim refuses to spend a night apart. He’d rather douse me in freezing cold water than not sleep by my side.”
“Douse you in water?” Maria’s eyebrows pull together.
“Is that what I said? I meant himself.” Beside me, Maxim stifles a laugh, disguising it with a timely cough. “And his proposal was something else. We were surrounded by our family and friends, in the wine cellar of his Black Sea home. It was all so romantic.”
Maria nods eagerly, scribbling down every word. "That sounds like a fairy tale."
"I’m glad you have such fond memories of that evening," Maxim murmurs so only I can hear as he brushes the pad of one finger over the pulse point at my wrist. I shoot him a hands-off look.
“Not sure ‘fond’ is quite the word,” I whisper back.
Maria shifts in her seat, tilting her head in thought. “Maxim, what made you choose to settle down again at this point in your life?”
Maxim stiffens beside me but quickly masks his discomfort with a practiced smile. “Maybe I’ve been waiting for the right woman to come along and sweep me off my feet.” His eyes lock on mine.
A charged undercurrent shifts the air between us and I have to look away, breaking the connection that suddenly feels too real.
“Last question,” Maria’s voice rings out. “Do you have any plans for a honeymoon?”
Maxim’s hand, warm and steady, covers mine and a heady rush coasts over my skin. For some reason, I don’t want to play our game anymore.
“I have something very special planned for Kira. A surprise.”
“Ooh, that sounds lovely,” Maria coos as I steal back my hand.
He’s saying it for her benefit. Like his put-on charm and those politician-perfect smiles, his smooth words are another layer masking who he really is. But I will uncover that truth.
Maria informs us she has everything she needs and then thanks us warmly for the interview. She shakes Maxim’s hand.
When she turns to me, I gesture towards the door. “Let me escort you out,” I offer.
Maxim's eyes narrow as if questioning my motives, but he doesn’t say anything, and I don’t offer an explanation.
As we walk through the hall towards the entranceway, Maria turns to me. "You know, I've covered Maxim for years, and I’ve never seen him like this. So alive."
I don’t know what to make of her revelation. Obviously Maxim is a great actor when he wants to be.
“Like what? How was he before?” I realize this is the perfect opportunity to get some answers, not only about Maxim’s past. As a journalist, she might know something about my aunt.
“There’s a spark that’s been missing for a long time. But I see it again, and it’s all because of you.”
I’m about to ask her why he lost his spark in the first place when a dark shadow appears out of nowhere.
“Mrs. Tokarev, I trust you got everything you required,” Nadya says, inserting herself between us.
Maria smiles, but I sense an underlying annoyance. “I did. Thank you for arranging everything. It’s been such a delight to meet the wonderful Kira that everyone is so curious about.”
I don’t want to miss the chance to pick Maria’s brain. “Maybe we can meet for coffee one—”
“Thank you again for your time,” Nadya interrupts me. “I have arranged a limo for you. It’s waiting outside.” The older woman gestures towards the door, leaving no room for argument.
Maria takes my hand in hers. "It was truly a pleasure, Kira. Thank you." With a final nod, she turns and leaves, her steps echoing through the foyer.
As soon as Maria is out of earshot, I whirl around to face Nadya. "Stay out of my business," I snap, my frustration boiling over. "I don’t need you to monitor my every move.”
Nadya steps closer, her gaze sharp, fingers absently playing with the cross around her neck. "You have no right to befriend a journalist. It’s not only your reputation at stake," she fires back with a stern tone. "You'd do well to remember that."
“And you’d do well to remember that I'm the lady of this house, and I certainly don’t answer to you.”
Nadya's eyes narrow, and she lets out a slow, measured breath. "We’ll see about that," she says, her voice laced with thinly veiled contempt. "I was here before you, and I’ll still be here long after you're gone." With that, she turns and walks away, leaving a tense silence in her wake.
A realization dawns on me, sharp and unbidden. Nadya must be in love with Maxim. It's the only thing that makes sense, the only reason she'd act so possessive over him.
I’m quite sure Maxim doesn’t reciprocate her feelings, but the whole thing is so weird. I really need to hurry up and dig harder into Maxim’s connection with my aunt’s murder.
And the mayor’s dinner party in a few days is the perfect place to do some digging.