The dead heir walking.
I scan the room and find him immediately, like my body has a compass that points to him regardless of my wishes. He's near the bar with Roman, both of them holding drinks, both of them the picture of familial reunion.
But I can see the tension in Maksim's shoulders. The way he holds himself ready for violence. The cold calculation in his eyes as he surveys the room.
Our eyes meet across the ballroom, and for a heartbeat, I see something flicker in his expression. Regret. An apology.
Then it's gone, replaced by ice.
I force myself to look away first. To smile at someone whose name I can't remember. To pretend my world didn't just explode.
"There you are." Roman appears at my elbow, his hand immediately going to my waist. "I was getting worried."
"Just needed some air." I keep my voice light. "The excitement was overwhelming."
"I can imagine." His fingers dig into my side. “Have you heard the news?”
“What news?” I ask.
“Ah, let me be the first to show you.” Roman guides me toward where Maksim stands. "Come. Let me properly introduce you."
No. No, I can't do this. Can't stand there and pretend we're strangers while my lips still burn from his kiss.
But I don't have a choice.
Roman leads me across the ballroom like I'm a prize he's displaying.
"Maksim," Roman says warmly. "I don't think you've been properly reintroduced to my fiancée. Kira Markov. Though I believe you knew each other before."
The understatement is deliberate. Cruel. Roman knows exactly what we were to each other. He was one of the few that knew about us back then.
This is him twisting the knife. Showing Maksim that he won. That he's taking what should have been Maksim's.
Maksim's eyes drift over me like I'm a stranger he's mildly interested in. No recognition. No warmth. Nothing but cold assessment.
"We've met," he says, his voice flat. "Long time ago. You look different."
"People change." I manage to keep my voice steady. "Circumstances change us."
"They do." He takes a sip of his drink. "Congratulations on your engagement. I'm sure you'll be very happy together."
The words are polite. Proper. Completely devoid of emotion.
Roman laughs, pulling me closer. "I'm certainly happy. She will give me many strong sons.”
He's doing it on purpose. Rubbing in what Maksim lost.
"I’m sure," Maksim agrees, his tone suggesting he's commenting on the weather. "Though I'd watch your back, Uncle."
Roman's smile falters slightly. "Oh?"
"Well." Maksim's eyes finally meet mine, and they're dead. Empty. "The Markov family has a history of eliminating their problems. Just ask my kidnappers. Or me, I suppose, since I'm the one who survived them."
Roman chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Take it from someone with experience. There's a good chance she'll kill you eventually. Might want to sleep with one eye open."
He says it casually. Like he's suggesting Roman try the salmon.
