But his eyes move over Valentina blatantly.
He’s not admiring her beauty.
He’s calculating her worth, appraising her like livestock.
My jaw tightens, and I force myself to relax before anyone notices.
"A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Vasiliev," Valentina says, voice surprisingly calm considering her situation.
"Please, call me Maksim." He takes her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles. "After all, we will soon share much more than names."
I fantasize breaking his neck as I watch him watching her like he’s looking for weaknesses.
"Two months should be sufficient time to arrange a ceremony befitting our families," Alessandro says, his tone businesslike as if discussing a shipment rather than his sister's future.
Irritation flashes in Maksim’s eye. "Why wait? In my country, we say delayed celebrations bring bad fortune."
"Some preparations are necessary," Adriano interjects, his hand tensing around his glass.
The air crackles with tension.
I shift closer to Valentina, noting how her shoulders stiffen when Maksim's gaze slides to her again.
“What does my bride prefer?” Maksim reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against Valentina's wrist.
The way his thumb traces slow circles on her skin makes my stomach clench.
He’s deliberately giving a display of possession.
Letting everyone know he can touch what belongs to the Dantes without consequence.
"I have no preference for the ceremony itself," Valentina replies. "Only that it represents the strength of our new alliance."
Smart answer. Diplomatic. But Maksim's eyes narrow fractionally, as if he wanted to see fear, not composure.
"Perhaps the bride would like to discuss the guest list privately," Maksim suggests.
There’s a predatory edge in his voice that has my hand instinctively moving closer to my concealed weapon.
Alessandro catches my movement with a warning glance. Stand down.
I force myself to relax while every instinct screams danger.
There's something beneath Maksim's performance.
The way he studies Valentina reminds me of someone examining a chess piece, considering all possible moves and countermoves.
“That’s not necessary,” Valentina responds to his comment.
“Perhaps we should discuss security,” Maksim moves on.
But there’s something about his questions regarding Dante security protocols that puts me on edge.
It feels like he’s probing, gathering intelligence under the guise of wedding plans.
When Valentina excuses herself to the restroom, I follow at a discreet distance, positioning myself where I can watch both her path and the table.
Maksim's eyes track her until she disappears from view, then immediately lock onto mine.
