Prince: Royal Romantic Suspense (Billionaires in Disguise: Maxence Book 5) by Blair Babylon (best books to read fiction txt) 📕

When Maxence looked up, he saw his Great Uncle Louis waving and motioning them over.

Max said to Nico, “Here’s your first chance to have a social interaction with Russian mobsters who will want to discuss business with you. Your goal is to be polite and regally inaccessible. You make no deals, you promise nothing, and you are perfectly pleasant and gracious while doing so.”

Nico lifted one eyebrow. “That sounds impossible.”

“You understand perfectly. Come.”

Maxence led the way through the crowd, shaking hands and greeting people as they moved along. As they strolled and sidestepped their way toward Louis, Max included Nico in every introduction and discussion as, “My cousin, Lord Nicostrato Grimaldi, heir to the Marquis de Ragny,” thus lightly implying that Nico would be a good person to get to know.

When they reached Great Uncle Louis and the two high-ranking members of the Sokolov bratva, Maxence heartily shook Louis’s hand and allowed himself to be introduced. Matryona had been quite a few years ahead of Maxence at school, though Kir was closer to his age.

Nico shook hands with the assorted Russian gangsters while smiling tightly. “Call me Nico.”

They should discuss whether Nico should use the diminutive of his name or insist on being called Prince Nicostrato after being elected. Very few people shortened Maxence’s name in any manner, though he’d always thought of himself as Max when necessary. He had always been known as Prince Maxence.

Uncle Louis’s crepey eyelids were half-closed as he soared through narcotic dreams. Not noticing that his uncle was a drug addict had nearly caused a major miscalculation. Maxence must be more attentive to everyone he saw if he was to pull this off.

Matryona Sokolov was a petite, zaftig woman whose head barely reached the middle of Maxence’s chest. Her appearance provoked impressions of everybody’s favorite aunt, the one who always brought homemade cookies and gave amusing presents at Christmas instead of socks. Her sparrow-streaked hair fluttered as she laughed uproariously at some joke that Maxence hadn’t heard. “So nice to meet you, Lord Nico. This is my brother Kir. He’s a great person to get to know if you need connections to anyone in America.”

Kir Sokolov bent slightly at the waist as he was introduced to Maxence and Nico, bringing his eyes closer to level with theirs.

Because Maxence was six-four, he rarely met people taller than himself. Angling his gaze up to meet Kir’s was almost disorienting. The world tilted as his eye went past the level of the horizon, and his stomach churned like he was seasick before he adjusted.

Kir Sokolov’s tuxedo jacket hung limply on his cadaverous form, like he’d recently lost weight and hadn’t had his suit re-tailored. The discrepancy was so extreme that Maxence stopped himself from asking Kir if he was all right, or if he had been ill with cancer, perhaps a radiation accident. A radioactivity overdose might explain the white man’s gray pallor, bloodshot eyes, and numerous liver spots for a person who appeared to be in their early thirties, otherwise.

However, as a member of the royal family, one did not ask such questions and feigned surprise if the other person volunteered information. Maxence smiled gently and inclined his head to invite commentary as he asked, “Have you been residing in America?”

Kir smiled, revealing straight, blindingly white teeth. His thin lips appeared even more sallow by comparison. “I live in some of the larger cities, mainly in the West. Have you traveled much in the United States, Your Highness?”

“Very little. A friend of mine lives in Los Angeles, so I’ve stayed with him there. I’ve only occasionally ventured outside of LA.”

The Russian mobster’s smile did not waver. “I have many business contacts in Los Angeles, though my base of operations is in Phoenix and southern Arizona.”

“It’s a lovely part of the country. I spent time in Central America, where I attended graduate school.”

Max’s Uncle Louis added, “Maxence has said he has a vocation to be a priest. He plans to be a Jesuit.” As he spoke, his body canted sideways, and he stumbled.

Maxence caught Louis and righted him without comment.

Kir Sokolov’s pristine smile did not change, but his tone acquired a bit more gravel. “I have many associates in Central America, especially El Salvador.”

The combination of Louis’s mention of Jesuits and Kir’s immediate reference to El Salvador was menacing. Six Jesuit priests had been assassinated in El Salvador in a mass murder that had shocked the world. Even thirty years later, the allusion was unmistakable. The question was whether Kir was merely trying to throw Maxence off guard or making an actual threat. Either way, Maxence had spent too much time with psychopaths in his life to enjoy the experience.

After a few more pleasantries, he noted Marie-Therese signaling to him and led Nico over to greet her rather than waste any more of his time with the members of the Russian mafia. She was mingling with people who appeared more glamorous than threatening, and Maxence allowed her to tuck her hand in his arm and introduce him and Nico to the next generation of social media influencers. Their shallow giddiness was amusing, and Maxence found himself entertained by their avid discussion of algorithms.

He missed his little Dree Clark, though. She’d been a bubble of light at the Paris Opera House and the ball at Versailles, and even the most scintillating of conversations paled in comparison to her wonder, her effervescent observations, and the softness of her skin under her gown that he took every opportunity to touch.

If Dree were with him at the reception, Maxence would take her up on the other part of the roof where the darkened helipad was and make love to her under the stars with the chop of the Mediterranean Sea drowning out the voices of the people below.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Some Hillbilly Stuff

Dree

The next Friday night at shortly past eleven o’clock, Dree’s phone buzzed with yet another late-night text from Maxence asking her to come to