Page 7 of The Stalking King

Maksim spreads his hands. I like the way he moves, slow, casual. Like he’s brimming with savage power but doesn’t feel the need to use it. Today, he’s wearing a darker suit, the collar open. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“It must have been… an admin error,” Joel says.

“An admin error,” Maksim mutters.

Joel’s expression is bleak, but I know he’s lying. He looks like he’s on the edge of seriously panicking, the fingers of his right hand tapping against this thigh telling me all I need to know.

“I don’t know,” Joel snaps without reason. “How would I? It was there. Now, it’s gone.”

Maksim approaches me, lowering his voice so only I can hear. He looks at me as if we’re not strangers, as if we’ve met more than twice. The intimacy doesn’t make any sense. But I like it. I like how special he makes me feel. In all his photos—and when he looks and speaks to anyone else—he’s cold, distant. But not with me.

“Your friend is clearly lying, Lia,” he murmurs.

“You’re scaring him.”

“He was scared before we started talking,” he says fiercely. “I need the truth.”

“Why?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“You can’t waltz in here, demanding information, then tell me that.”

“Can’t I?” he says. “I usually do whatever I want.”

“How nice for you,” I say sarcastically. “But this isn’t one of those times.”

He leans in closer. Warmth whispers over me. Seconds pass, and we just look at each other, the heat building between us. I’ve never felt chemistry like this. It’s unspoken, just there. We haven’t said or done anything romantic at all, and yet it feels like there’s a possibility for some reason.

“I need to know where it went,” he says, his voice low. “I’m not just curious about where it went. It’s not slightly important. This is life-or-death, Lia.”

My heart thunders in my chest. “How can it be life-or-death?”

“I can’t tell you. But it is. You need to make your friend tell me. Or I’ll be forced to do it.”

I swallow. See? This isn’t a good guy. He wouldn’t be saying stuff like this if he was.

“I’m not going to let you hurt him,” I snap. “He’s a good person.”

Maksim smirks, amused. Impressed. I like that look in his eyes a little too much. “Are you going to stop me?”

“If I have to.”

He nods. “I believe you could. You’d find a way. Perhaps you’ll give me something I want more than the phone.”

My core tingles at his words. But I don’t let it show. “Promise you won’t hurt him, and I’ll ask him to help.”

“You need to do more than ask.”

“Promise, Maksim.”

He raises his eyebrows, looking at me like I’m some kind of rarity. “If you can get him to talk, I promise, I swear, I won’t hurt him.”

I swallow. This is nuts. He’s basically just confirmed he’s the sort of man who hurts people. Which means my interest should plummet to zero.

“And you’ll keep him safe,” I say. “Whatever’s happening here, I don’t want an innocent man caught in the crossfire.”

He nods. “I respect that, Lia. I promise.”