The Professional
Page 92What game? Was he talking about sorting out syndicate business? Outside looking in.
“When I asked for your assistance,” Sevastyan said, “I told you not to view this as an opportunity for more. You agreed.”
“You assume we want more from you, Roman?” Roman?? “Don’t flatter yourself. I merely want to meet the woman who’s at long last brought my big brother to his knees.”
I sagged against the wall. Maksim was Sevastyan’s brother?
I could see it. Both men had coal-black hair and towering, muscular frames. Though Maksim’s eyes were a piercing blue to Sevastyan’s gold, and Sevastyan’s nose had been broken, the rest of their features bore a resemblance.
But that wasn’t why he looked so familiar. Finally I remembered. I’d seen his picture online, when reading about another Sevastyan family—the mega-rich, connected Sevastyans.
This man was Maksimilian Sevastyan, the politician.
Hadn’t I read about three brothers? I cast my mind back to that article. I believed the youngest one was named Dmitri and was a CEO of some company. There’d been no information on the eldest, other than his name. Roman Sevastyan.
The same name that was on his fake passport. Except it wasn’t fake. His real name was Roman. And he’d been born into wealth and privilege.
No wonder his manners were impeccable. No wonder he’d seemed like a born rider.
And the meager crumbs of information that I’d worked so hard to get weren’t even true! When I’d asked him if he had any family—and specifically any siblings—he’d answered none. He didn’t have just one; he had two.
Somehow he’d gone from an affluent, respected family to the slums. If he’d been on the streets, it hadn’t been for long before Paxán found him.
Unless that was all a lie. Maybe he’d scammed Paxán. Who the hell knew?
Remembering my boasts, I felt my cheeks burn. My instincts with men are untouchable. I can figure out men easily—
“Get the f**k out, Maks. I won’t ask you again.”
“You took her to the club last week, but won’t even schedule a dinner with me?”
I put my hand over my mouth. Sevastyan’s brother knew about Le Libertin? Had he seen me?
And why in the hell would Sevastyan take me to a sex club his brother also frequented? How . . . ick!
“Don’t look so surprised,” Maksim told him. “I know everything you do. You forget—I’m in the business of information. Now, call my sister-in-law down to meet me, or I’ll force my way up.”
Sevastyan shot forward, inserting himself between Maksim and me. “Natalie, go upstairs. Now.”
My feet were rooted to the spot. “You told me you didn’t have any family left. And no siblings.”
Maksim tsked, sidling around Sevastyan. “Roman has two brothers. I am Maksim, the more handsome one. And you, Natalie Porter, are even lovelier than I expected. Evidently I need to schedule a trip to Nebraska.” He held out his hand, so I offered mine. He turned my hand to place a startling kiss on the pulse point at my wrist, glancing up with his penetrating blue eyes. “It’s a pleasure.”
Sevastyan didn’t like that at all. So joke him. I smiled back at Maksim. “Very nice to meet you.”
Sevastyan snatched my hand, using it to drag me back. “You will wait for me in our room.”
Dismissing me? He wasn’t even going to act guilty about the fact that he’d lied to me and been busted?
“No, Natalie will remain for drinks,” Maksim said, pouring shots. I supposed he didn’t have the same hang-ups over alcohol as his brother. “We’ll order in.” He was just as domineering as Sevastyan! “I refuse to leave until I get to know my sister-in-law.”
“I am not married to Sevastyan.”
“Details. You will be soon. Roman considers you engaged.”
“Oh, no, I mean on the cusp of a legal, binding marriage.”
Did Sevastyan just assume I would? The ass**le hadn’t even proposed! I felt my fists balling.
I’d asked him when I would get to know his business. He’d considered us engaged and still hadn’t deemed me worthy of his trust?
How much more twisted could this “relationship” get? “I wouldn’t put money on a wedding.”
Sevastyan ground his teeth until his jaw muscles twitched.
I turned to Maksim. “I heard you say you’ve been helping me. How?”
“I’m a politician in Russia. A powerful one.” He grinned, buffing his nails charmingly. Still, I sensed pain lurking inside him. Did he use his charm as a concealment, his own mask? “At present, a few of us politicians share the same resources as the vory in the mafiya—and even tactics. Roman knew I had men on hand to secure Berezka for you.”
“Then, in that case, spasibo.” Thank you.
Voice deep, he murmured, “Vsegda pozhaluista.” You’re quite welcome. This man’s charisma was off the charts. He gave me another grin that revealed white teeth. I recalled the one time I’d seen Sevastyan truly smile, and realized the two men looked even more similar than I’d thought. “You still call my brother by his surname?”