49. Sophie
49
SOPHIE
M axim is in his study, seated at his desk, phone pressed to his ear. His eyes snap to mine the moment I walk in.
“Yes,” he says into the phone, sounding more cheerful than I’ve ever heard him. “You’ve made the right decision, Andrei.”
He ends the call and leans back in his chair. “Congratulations, your acting paid off. I could almost forgive you for stealing one of my cars. You?—”
I cut him off. “Evan has my grandma, and he’ll kill her if I don’t unlock that file and send him the entire two hundred in the next-” I glance up at the clock, “-sixteen minutes.”
The words hang in the air like a blade poised to drop. Maxim’s expression doesn’t change, but the temperature in the room seems to plummet.
He leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk, and the intensity of his gaze makes it hard to breathe.
“How do you know this?” he asks, his voice dangerously calm.
“I went to her apartment,” I admit, forcing myself to hold his stare. “She called me, asked me to meet her there. When I got there, they were waiting for me. Please, you have to help me.”
I break off, my throat tightening. Maxim’s jaw clenches, and for a moment, he looks like he might explode. But instead, he exhales slowly, the sound more menacing than any outburst could be.
He stands, his movements slow and deliberate, like a storm gathering strength. He walks around the desk, stopping just a foot away from me, and I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.
His hand comes up, cupping my chin with a grip that’s firm but not painful. “Do not mistake me for a man who lets anyone take what’s his,” he says, his voice a growl.
The words send a chill down my spine, but I don’t look away. “So you’ll help me?”
“Of course I’ll help you,” he says, his thumb brushing against my jaw in a gesture that feels tender. “No one takes from my wife without paying the price.”
He pulls out his phone, dialing with swift precision. His jaw is tight, his movements sharp as though each second wasted chips away at his control. He speaks into the phone before it even has a chance to ring.
“Status on Rook’s Hollow guard detail?” His voice is clipped, a blade wrapped in velvet.
I lean against the desk, my arms crossed tightly as I watch him. My nails dig into my palms as anxiety coils in my chest. The faint buzz of a voice on the other end of the line carries through the room, but I can’t make out the words.
“No response?” His tone drops, ice laced with steel. He listens for a moment, then curses under his breath. “Keep trying. I want confirmation one way or another in three minutes.”
He hangs up and tosses the phone onto the desk with enough force to make it skid across the surface.
For a moment, he just stands there, his shoulders rigid, his fists clenched. The quiet rage radiating off him is suffocating.
“They’re not answering,” he says, his voice deceptively calm.
“What does that mean?” I ask, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady.
“It means the men I left to guard your grandmother are dead,” he replies bluntly.
His gaze snaps to mine, dark and unyielding. “Call Evan, use my phone. Tell him you need one more hour.”
“He said he’d hurt her if I didn’t do it in time.”
He shakes his head. “He’s too greedy to think straight. He’ll give you the extension, trust me. More than enough time for my crew to get ready.” He holds out his cellphone. “Make the call now and be sure to make it convincing.”
“I don’t know if I can do it,” I say. “What if he sees through me?”
“You acted in love for Andrei. He believed you, sold to me just now. You can do this. I believe in you, Sophie. Make the call. Time’s running out.”