There were a few important guests present that Maxim had done business with. Some of them stopped to speak to him. Lev never understood how effortlessly Maxim could talk and mingle with others. Maxim listened with half an ear to Nancy Reynolds, the wife of the mayor.
She rambled on and on about how tragic it was that such a young and promising woman had passed away from this world. Maxim doubted she even knew Aurora Bianchi personally. Spotting his prey, Maxim broke away from the group.
He had seen one picture of Sofia Bianchi when he last visited the house. A dark-haired, dark-eyed, curvy beauty, Sofia stood awkwardly next to her slim and golden-haired sister. The photo had been taken during Aurora’s college graduation. Apart from that one photo, Maxim had seen no other pictures of Sofia.
Lorenzo had once mentioned that Sofia was a disappointment, a mere shadow of her accomplished sister. Personally, Maxim preferred blondes, but something about Sofia intrigued him. Not that it mattered back then.
Lorenzo and Maxim made an agreeable business arrangement. The Don of the Bianchi Familia needed Maxim’s men and the reputation that came with allying himself with the most feared Bratva family in the city. Maxim needed Lorenzo’s guns and a daughter who would bear Maxim his heir.
Sofia stood by her sister’s coffin, dressed in a simple strapless knee-length dress and nude flats. She kept moving her hands, as if she didn’t know where to put them. No one spoke to her or addressed her.
She reminded Maxim of a fish out of water, a sad little ghost everyone had forgotten.
“Stay in one corner, and watch the room,” Maxim told Ivan.
He gave Maxim a curt nod.
As Maxim approached Sofia, he realized she was the only person in this room who didn’t bother with masks.
Her dark eyes held unshed tears, her skin deathly pale. She looked at no one, just the coffin.
It didn’t matter how ornate Aurora’s coffin appeared—polished walnut inlaid with genuine gold. The coffin lid was closed.
Morbidly, Maxim wondered how mangled Aurora Bianchi’s body had been when Lorenzo’s men had retrieved it.
From the information Maxim’s men had gathered, an unknown sniper had taken the shot from the opposite building. Lorenzo still didn’t know who had been responsible for the kill. At least not yet. His information network was vast as Maxim’s
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Maxim murmured next to Sofia.
She didn’t even notice Maxim had made his way toward her. She didn’t look at him.
“Everyone says that,” Sofia murmurs. “Empty words. Most guests here didn’t even know Aurora. Not really.”
“And you do?” Maxim pressed, intrigued by her answer. “Tell me more about her.”
“Whatever Aurora set her mind to, she did it perfectly. Riding horses, piano lessons, business school.” Sofia let out a bitter laugh. She looked like she needed a drink badly. “My exact opposite.”
“She sounds incredibly boring.”
“One of us had to be father’s instrument,” Sofia answered and finally looked at Maxim for the first time.
The widening of her dark-brown eyes and the way her luscious lips parted slightly told Maxim she knew exactly who he was.
“Maxim Semenov. What the hell are you doing here?” Sofia demanded.
Maxim liked how his name rolled off her tongue, liked how in a few seconds, Sofia had turned from a vulnerable flower to a fiery woman not afraid to speak her mind.
In those few moments Sofia was talking to a complete stranger, she had mistakenly allowed herself to be vulnerable. That had been her mistake.
“Paying my respects to your father. We’re friends, in case you don’t know,” Maxim answered, placing his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
“You and my father are not friends. Once you get what you need from him, you’ll turn on him like everyone else.”
The vehemence in her voice surprised both of them. Maxim raised an eyebrow at her, and Sofia flushed.
“Then perhaps allies would have been a better word to use. Normally, I do not allow women I’ve just met to speak so rudely to me, but since you’re grieving, I’ll make this moment an exception,” Maxim said.
“I’m sorry. I’m not usually this rude to guests, even to opportunistic ones like you,” Sofia quickly said. “Crap. I just did it again.” She nervously tucked a strand of hair that had fallen from her tight bun. Maxim reached out behind her.
Sofia stilled as he gently tugged away the black band holding her glorious hair in a plain bun.
Maxim threaded his fingers through her glorious locks. Leaning in close, he inhaled the smell of her shampoo.
“Jasmine,” Maxim murmured. “Wonderful.”
Sofia pulled away, staring at him open-mouthed. Since she rewarded Maxim with her genuine self and didn’t hold back her emotions, then it was only right Maxim didn’t play games with her.
“You asked what I was doing here,” Maxim told her plainly. “I came to pay my respects to your father. That was one reason. Can you guess the other one?”