Max goes still, but it isn’t the stillness of surprise—men like him don’t wear surprise so obviously. It’s more the stillness of a mind at work, one shifting pieces on a chessboard in reaction to a very important piece of information.
His expression doesn’t change, but for a moment, thepakhandisappears and the man behind is revealed.
“Teodora.” He says her name quietly, almost to himself.
Then the hardness returns.
“You knew her,” I say. It’s a statement, not a question.
“Indeed I did. As I’m sure you know, I was her father’s godfather.” He places just enough emphasis on the word to make it clear it’s sacred to him. “I stood before God and swore an oath. We were blood brothers. His children were my children, in a sense.” He pauses. “Teodora would sit on my knee during dinners and play with my tie. Masha would scold her; Lev would laugh. He always had a soft spot for her. And so did I.”
Something tightens in my chest. I’ve never known this version of Thea, the version of her before her family was massacred.
“She’s alive and she’s safe,” I confirm. “She’s with me.”
“She’s with you? How long have you had her?”
I give him the rundown. Liza, the new identity, the funded arrangement. Max listens without interruption, his expression unreadable. But I notice his hand has curled into a fist where it rests on the table.
When I finish, he’s quiet for a long time.
“Twenty years,” he finally says. “And Kolya never found her.”
“He didn’t even know she was alive. Until six months ago, he didn’t even suspect anything. One of his men recognized her at her place of work.”
“Her work? And where was that?”
“As a maid, at The Belvedere.”
He lets out a quick, sudden laugh. It’s more a laugh of disbelief than of amusement.
“Teodora Fetisova, working as a maid. The directions life can take you.”
“It worked until it didn’t,” I say. “After one of Kolya’s men recognized her, he moved quickly. He had her drugged and put up for auction. I intervened before his people could close the deal.”
“And now he knows who she is and that she lives.”
“Correct. She and I attended the last council meeting.”
“I can only imagine how that went over.”
“It was not as bad as expected, if you can believe it. Kolya had an excuse ready to go when he was accused of the Fetisov massacre. But no doubt, he has plans in motion.”
Max picks up his water glass and drinks before slowly setting it back down.
“And that’s where I come into the story.”
“Indeed.”
He looks off to the side for a long moment, as if letting all the information run through his mind.
“I’ve been waiting,” he says. “You understand this. Fifteen years in Moscow, building and consolidating, keeping one hand in New York through business interests and old connections. When the Fetisovs were murdered, it affected my standing. I wanted revenge, but the loss of my most powerful ally put me on the back burner.”
I say nothing, letting him go on.
“I hated to flee. It made me feel like a coward, like I had abandoned my vows. But throwing myself at Kolya in some foolish attempt to get revenge would’ve been suicide. He would’ve crushed me, taken control of my territories, and become even stronger. So I left. Built. Positioned. Waited for the right moment.”
“And?”
