21. Maxim
21
MAXIM
I hear the door creak open, and my casual lean against the wall becomes a little less casual as she steps out.
The swimsuit fits her snugly, accentuating every curve, the sleek black fabric a stark contrast against her skin.
Her hair’s up in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face, and her bare feet pad lightly on the tiles as she crosses the room. She looks so good .
I force my gaze to stay level with hers, but it’s a struggle. “Took you long enough,” I say, pushing off the wall and turning toward the pool.
“Worth the wait, though, wasn’t it?” she shoots back, striding past me with a confidence that makes my pulse quicken.
I don’t answer, because I’m not sure I trust my voice right now. Instead, I head to the pool’s edge, grabbing a towel and tossing it onto one of the lounge chairs.
She follows, stopping a few feet away to dip a toe in the water. Her nose scrunches adorably, and I catch myself staring again.
“You’re stalling,” I say, stripping off my shirt and tossing it aside.
She blinks, her eyes flickering to my chest for the briefest second before she quickly looks away, biting her lip. “Not stalling. Just mentally preparing.”
“You can do this,” I assure her, stepping into the shallow end with ease. The water is cool, refreshing, but it’s nothing compared to the heat building in the room—or maybe just in me. “Come on. One step at a time.”
She edges closer, dipping one foot in, then the other. Her movements are hesitant but determined, and I can’t help but admire her for it. When the water reaches her knees, her breath quickens, and she pauses, gripping the metal railing as if it might vanish if she lets go.
“You’re fine,” I say, my voice calm.
“Shut up,” she mutters, but her smile betrays her. She lets go of the railing, inching forward until the water is at her waist. Her grip on the edge of the pool tightens briefly, then releases. She floats slightly, her arms moving to steady herself, her face a mix of concentration and fear.
“You’re doing fine,” I murmur, keeping close enough that she can grab onto me if she needs to. The vulnerability in her expression is disarming. “Just keep moving. The water will do the rest.”
Her shoulders relax marginally, and she glances over at me, her lips quirking into a grin. “You’re just doing this so you can show off those muscles, aren’t you?”
I raise an eyebrow, the corner of my mouth lifting. “If you’re impressed, just say so. No need to fish for excuses.”
She rolls her eyes but takes another step, the water now lapping at her ribs. “Don’t let it go to your head, Maxim. I’m just commenting on the obvious.”
I step closer, watching her movements carefully. “Confident enough to flirt while you’re scared of drowning. That’s a first.”
“Who said I was flirting?” she shoots back, raising an eyebrow.
She huffs but doesn’t argue, her focus shifting to the water. Slowly, she begins to move, her arms pushing through the water, her legs kicking gently behind her. I stay close, keeping pace with her, but I can feel the tension in her body start to ease.
The moment stretches, her trust in me tangible. I know I should step back, keep my distance, but I can’t seem to move away.
"See?" I say, keeping my voice low. "Nothing to be afraid of."
She smiles, and the air between us shifts—less cautious, more charged. I pull back slightly, breaking the spell before it can pull me under completely.
"Tomorrow," I say, moving to the edge of the pool, "we’ll work on diving."
Her laugh echoes off the water. "Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Rambo."
I’ve barely begun to relax when I hear my father’s voice. It carries through the room, echoing off the walls. “Dmitri wishes to speak to you, Maxim,” he says.
“You need to get out?” I ask Veronica.
“I’ll stay in,” she replies, kissing my cheek so my father notices the gesture. “Don’t be too long,” she whispers in my ear, her eyes tracking me as I climb out.
I slip into the shadows near the pool entrance, pressing my back against the cool tile wall. My father’s voice is clear, his tone deceptively calm.
He’s taking a chance to try and find the cracks again, test if this is real. Son of a bitch is persistent, that’s for sure. I couldn’t believe he tried it on the wedding day and now here he is, at it again.
“Miss Bennett,” he says, his polished shoes clicking against the tile as he approaches her. “Do you mind if we have a little chat?”
“It’s Mrs Stepanov.”
“Is it?”
I can picture her expression even without seeing her—those wide, curious eyes, the slight furrow in her brow as she prepares herself for whatever verbal ambush he’s about to deliver.
“I wanted to understand something,” Victor continues, his tone casual. “You and my son. How did it happen?”
She hesitates, then replies smoothly, “We told you already. It wasn’t planned, but sometimes the best things aren’t.”
Victor hums, a low, skeptical sound that makes my jaw tighten.
“I checked with all our caterers. None of them have heard of you. Why would that be?”
I clench my fists, resisting the urge to step out and end this conversation myself.
“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” she replies, her voice firm. “I love Maxim. That’s what matters to him and me.”
She sounds like she means it. My heart leaps. The pause that follows is heavy. I can hear my father’s sharp gaze cutting into her.
“Love,” he repeats, his voice dripping with doubt. “You barely know him. What could you possibly love about a coldhearted monster like my son?”
Thanks, Dad.
There’s a beat of silence, and then her voice softens. “I love the way he protects me. He makes me feel safe.”
He chuckles darkly. “You’re a convincing actress. I’ll give you that.”
“I’m not acting,” she shoots back, the fire in her tone surprising even me.
“I think you are,” he says. “And I’m going to make you an offer. I don’t want my boy married to a woman only out for herself. Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it. Name your price.”
I hear the faint rustle of paper—cash, no doubt. He’s playing his favorite game: buy loyalty or expose the lack of it.
“I don’t want your money,” she says, her voice shaking slightly but still resolute. “I’m not here for that. I’m here because I love Maxim.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Even my father, the most calculating man I know, seems momentarily at a loss.
“I see,” he finally says, his tone unreadable. “I hope, for your sake, that’s true. Because if I find out you’re lying…”
“You won’t,” she interrupts, her confidence returning. “Because I’m not.”
There’s a pause, and then he sighs. “Time will tell.” His footsteps echo as he turns and walks away.
I wait until he’s gone before stepping out from the shadows. Veronica is still seated, her shoulders tense, her expression a mix of defiance and unease.
“You did well,” I say, my voice breaking the quiet.
She startles slightly, her head snapping toward me. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough,” I admit, stepping closer. “To hear you handle my father better than most men I know.”
She lets out a shaky laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing. “I don’t think he likes me very much.”
“No,” I agree, a smirk tugging at my lips. “But he respects you now. That’s more important.”
She looks at me, her eyes searching mine. “Were you really hiding to eavesdrop, or are you just that paranoid?”
I shrug. “Why not both?”
Her lips twitch into a small smile, and for a moment, I forget the world outside this room. The woman in front of me, fierce and loyal, just might be my undoing.
“I better go see what Dmitri wants,” I say, staring at her soft lips, wanting nothing more than to stay with her.
“Hurry back,” she replies, kissing me softly. “Could do with some help getting this costume off.”
“Maybe I’ll stay and help.” I hook the shoulder strap into my fingers, easing it slowly down.
“Maxim,” an unwelcome voice rumbles behind me. I spin around in time to find Dmitri glaring at the two of us. “I sent for you. Where the hell have you been?”
“I was busy. What’s so damned important?”
“Marco’s been spotted. We need to move fast. Get changed.”
Adrenaline kicks in instantly. “Where is he?”
“Warehouse district. Near the docks,” Dmitri replies. “One of our scouts saw him going in. He’s got men with him. Bring your gun.”