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Vadim is flabbergasted. I’ve rarely seen him so unsettled.

The already frosty atmosphere just turned even icier in this strange place, where the deep voices of the two men echo.

Who is this mysterious CEO keeping us waiting?

At last, he arrives. He’s about sixty years old, with a weathered but attractive face, thick salt-and-pepper hair, an imposing stature, and very broad shoulders. The stranger takes his time, making himself comfortable without so much as a glance in our direction, then finally turns toward our three wary faces.

I notice Vadim’s expression tighten. He usually comes across as so impassive, so controlled, impossible to read. But right now, I would almost go as far as saying he looks shaken.

“Vadim, how lovely to see you again after all these years…” his rival says, flashing a smile that reveals unnaturally white teeth.

They know each other.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Vadim replies, his words dripping with sarcasm.

“Mrs. Monroe, Miss Lancaster, if I’m not mistaken?”

Brimming with confidence, he looks us over. I still don’t understand why some men feel the need to specify the marital status of the women they’re addressing.

“That’s right. And you are?” Kate asks, a little nervously.

“Dimitri Monkov, the new CEO of Skylight Pictures and an old friend of the… King family.”

I swear he started to pronounce an A before catching himself. A shiver runs down my spine as it dawns on me that he was about to say “Arcadi.” For some reason, I feel strangely certain of it.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” he continues, all smiles. His English is mangled by his heavy Russian accent.

The two CEOs launch into a bitter exchange, laced with insinuations and veiled attacks. They completely ignore the rest of us, and no one dares interrupt them.

“I simply wanted us all to meet,” Vadim lies. “And it seems the timing couldn’t be better, since the leadership of your company has changed, without anyone being informed.”

“Rest assured, Mr. King, I’m not planning on going anywhere. And as for confidentiality, well, that’s my right, don’t you think? It would be hypocritical to reproach me for maintaining a certain… discretion. It seems to me that you don’t like to reveal much about yourself either.”

Vadim clenches his teeth, then forces himself to smile. “Let’s get back to business, Dimitri, if you don’t mind. You’ve probably heard about our recently created French subsidiary?”

“Of course. Any competition, even the most insignificant, deserves my attention. Go on.”

“Insignificant isn’t the word I would have used. King France is already expanding rapidly. The numbers speak for themselves.”

“One or two major box-office hits do not guarantee a company’s longevity, Mr. King. But I don’t suppose I’m telling you anything you don’t already know. Your ‘atypical’ background speaks for itself. You’re a stubborn, determined individual who refuses to accept failure, isn’t that right?”

“Absolutely. But I’m even less accepting of unfair competition and attacks directed at King Productions.”

“Business is business!” Monkov exclaims, slamming his fist down on the table. “You’re a powerful man, just like me. You know that in times of crisis, it’s necessary to seize every opportunity.”

“Not when it borders on illegality,” Vadim growls, fixing him with a deadly stare.

“Do you have proof? I’d be very interested to see it.”

“Kate, Alma, I think it’s time for us to go. This meeting is going nowhere. It’s impossible to reason with such a stubborn, unscrupulous old man.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic, Vadim. You don’t know what the future holds for us. I still have many wonderful, long years ahead of me. And we’ll have the opportunity to enjoy many more conversations like this—I’m sure of it.”

“We’ll see about that,” Vadim snaps as he rises to his feet.

A strange, sinister grin twists the Russian’s lips as they shake hands, and the tension is palpable.

Next, it’s my turn. Dimitri Monkov looks me straight in the eye before unabashedly looking me up and down.