One
I stood with my back against the mirrored elevator wall, both my heart and mind going into overdrive.
What the hell was I doing here?
This building –namely the penthouse I was slowly ascending to– was the last place on earth I ever wanted to set foot into.
I took deep breaths, trying to calm my frayed nerves.
Two days ago I had been summoned, and here I was, rescheduling a meeting with the consulate of Spain in order to bend to the whim of a man I had never met. A man whose rumored reputation sent chills down my back.
My eyes met the elevator panel, the changing digits letting me know I was almost there. Turning to give myself a look in the large mirror, I smoothed a hand over my nude pencil skirt. Checking my teeth, I was glad to see no trace of my red lipstick on them.
The elevator came to a stop with a soft ding and I steeled myself. The large doors opened, revealing cream marble floors paired with dark walls and metallic light fixtures. Taking a tentative step inside, I noticed the spiral staircase and two large hallways facing opposite directions. There was a lot of modern art covering the walls, and I allowed myself a minute to admire it.
“Miss Denver.”
I jumped at the sound of my name coming from my left. Looking that way, I saw a tall, broad-shouldered man standing a few feet away.
“Hello,” I said in greeting, willing my heart to stop beating so damn hard.
He nodded his head towards the hallway he’d come from. “This way.” His voice had a slight accent, and I tried not to shudder thinking about its origin.
I followed him towards what I guessed was the living area where the steady sound of conversation carried over to us. We passed a few closed doors, and soon enough, I was facing floor-to-ceiling windows and a breathtaking view of the glowing city below.
The fireplace was lit, giving the otherwise large room a cozy feeling. Conversation stopped as soon as I made an appearance.
One of the two large sofas was occupied by a man whose posture screamed confidence. His arms were extended along the back of the leather sofa, one ankle crossed over his knee. His dark eyes met mine, and I might have stopped breathing for a moment.
There was no doubt in my mind this was the man I had come here to see.
There were two other men facing him on the opposite sofa. I glanced their way, trying to escape his scrutinizing stare. One was bald and built like a brick wall, the other had short blond hair and icy blue eyes. They both regarded me with leering curiosity.
Looking back at the man of the house, I spoke, doing my best to sound confident. “Good evening.”
He gave me the once-over, his eyes lingering on my legs and chest shamelessly. The corner of his mouth turned up into a lazy smirk. “Miss Denver, how nice of you to make time to see me.” His voice held a similar accent to the one I’d heard from the man still standing behind me, although less noticeable.
I offered him a tight smile, knowing he was baiting me. “Of course.”
There was no sense in pretending I wanted to be there, but he seemed to be enjoying my discomfort, and I made it a point of not letting people get to me that easily.
After a moment, he rose to his feet. He wore black on black – all designer – and I noticed that he was taller than I could have guessed. “Join me in my office,” he said, his dark eyes conveying a message to the men still seated.
I followed after him silently. Opening a door just down the same hallway I’d come from, he ushered me inside. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured to a navy plush loveseat facing a black glass coffee table.
Placing my purse and my laptop bag at my feet, I sat down. My fingers found the thin gold ring I wore on my middle finger, starting to fidget with it nervously.
He sauntered to the globe bar beside the desk, pulling out a crystal tumbler. “Anything to drink?”
“No, thank you.”
He nodded, as if expecting my answer, and poured himself two fingers of colorless liquid from an expensive-looking bottle of vodka. He took a sip before deciding to join me on the loveseat, tumbler still in hand. I tensed, unsure of the proximity.
Looking at me with a soft smile, he extended his free hand in my direction. “Maksim Volodin.”
My hand met his warm one. A strange shiver ran down my back at the contact. “Evelyn Denver. Everyone calls me Eve.”
“Evelyn,” he said in a low voice, bringing my knuckles to his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The chivalrous gesture caught me by surprise, especially after he’d blatantly ogled me just minutes before. I swallowed thickly, glancing away and tucking my hand into my lap. “What exactly am I here for?”
There was a moment of pause before he decided to answer. “I bought a house. I want you to work on it.”
I looked back at him curiously. “The person who contacted me on your behalf said you were interested in my work. Have you seen any of it?”
“I have. Mayor Hicks is a good friend of mine.” He seemed unconcerned that he’d just openly admitted to having the Mayor of New York on his list of friends. If what I’d heard about him was even partially true, his acquaintance with Mayor Hicks could only mean one thing: this man had more influence than I thought.
“You’ve seen the summer house in the Hamptons,” I stated.
“I have, yes. I think you have good taste and I want you to work for me.”
“I’m flattered, but right now I’m committed to another project, and this is what I was hoping to discuss with you.” I didn’t point out that his delegate had hounded me to the point I just couldn’t keep refusing to see him. I reached for my purse to grab my phone and consult my calendar. “I should be able to accommodate you in another month or so. Should we schedule a meeting for then?”
A flicker of annoyance crossed his features. “I don’t wait.”
I retracted my hand from my purse. “Mr. Volodin –”
“Maksim”, he corrected, rising to his feet and abandoning his unfinished drink on his desk.
“Maksim, I’m really sorry, but I have –”
“No, no,” he cut me off again with a finger pointed in my direction. “I don’t wait. Lanier has already been informed that you will not be able to continue with that project of his you just picked up. He was very understanding.”
I gaped at him, shocked. Had he threatened Andrew Lanier, one of the most high-profile attorneys in the city? And how did he know what project I was working on? The implications had the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Suddenly, I was filled with adrenaline. My palms started sweating as my heart picked up pace once again.
This man was dangerous. I suspected it coming here, but somehow not until this moment the insanity of what I was about to get into dawned on me.
I decorated vacation homes and modern offices. Not even in my wildest dreams would I have associated myself with the Russian mafia, and especially not their leader–the man I was currently sharing oxygen with.
Well, at least according to some old newscast, if journalism these days were to be trusted.
The reason I even knew about Maksim Volodin wasn’t the chain of hotels bearing his name, but his connection with another Russian businessman who was now behind bars for money laundering.
Maksim leaned against his desk, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Tell me what you need to start working and it’s yours.”
“I –” I stared at him, my mind filled with racing thoughts. “We haven’t even discussed my rate.”
“I know your rate and I will double it,” he said, the irritation gone from his voice once he realized I was willing to cooperate. “To make up for your troubles, yes?”
“There’s no need.”
“I’ll double your rate,” he repeated in a way that said he wasn’t going to do it again. “Are you free tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yes,” I said, knowing it didn’t really matter if I was free or not. He expected me to make time for him, and I suddenly wanted to cut this meeting short.
“Good.” He looked pleased with my newfound compliance. “I’ll pick you up from your office around three. We will go see the house then.”
I nodded and stood, needing to get out of his presence and just think.
What was I doing? I had come to this place hoping to get him and his people off my back for a while, and instead I was leaving with the promise to see him again tomorrow.
“I should go,” I said. The man unnerved me in more ways than one. Grabbing my things, I headed for the door.
“I’ll walk with you.” Following me to the front entrance, his large form towered over me. At the door, he picked up my hand, once again bringing it to his lips. “See you tomorrow, Evelyn.”
