Knox realized he’d been glaring at Stanislovsky and attempted to play it cool. “Max. What brings you to Black Arts? I’m sure you know Ronin is out of the country.”

Max’s eyes narrowed at Knox’s use of his first name. Before when he’d dealt with Max, he’d called him Mr. Stanislovsky. But that was before Ronin had left him in charge.

“Yes, I was telling Ronin’s lovely sister about my visits to Japan. It’s been a few years, but I’ve always found Japanese women so very . . . intriguing.”

“We’re like women everywhere else, Max. We’re overloaded with work and family.”

Max leaned closer. “Your grandfather should not have put you in such a position. Working so much . . . not good for anyone. Especially not a beautiful woman like you. You should be pampered. Put on the pedestal you so clearly deserve.”

Knox snorted. “That lifestyle would set Shiori on a murderous path. Her contributions to Okada have been enormous over the years. So I’d say her grandfather knew exactly what he was doing by putting her in a position of authority and not on a pedestal.”

Shiori’s shoulders stiffened.

What? He wasn’t allowed to brag on her? Bullshit.

“Is the penthouse to your liking?” Max asked, ignoring Knox completely.

“Yes. The view is incredible and it’s a quiet building.”

Max Stanislovsky had helped Shiori choose a place to live? Why was this the first he’d heard of it?

Max sighed dramatically. “I’ll admit sadness that Ronin did not approach me about fulfilling your needs. But Ivan proved himself capable, so all is not lost.”

“Speaking of Ivan . . . is that why you’re here?”

Max’s gaze flicked over to him. “I heard about impressive new trainer. I wanted to meet man who will be spending time with my son.”

“Where are your leg-breakers, Max? I never see you without your bodyguards.”

That’s when Knox figured out why Max had shown up. He knew Ronin was out of the picture, so it was a free pass to schmooze Shiori in the office while one of his associates cornered Maddox in the training room and offered Maddox an obscene amount of money to become Ivan’s personal trainer.

Max shrugged. “They are around.”

Shiori turned her head and looked at Knox at the same time that Maddox stormed into the office with a sheaf of papers in his hand. “What the fuck is this?”

Bingo. He’d called it.

Knox pointed to Max. “Ask him. This is Ivan’s father, Max Stanislovsky.”

Maddox got right in Max’s face. “Let’s get one thing straight. I am not for sale. For any amount of money. And this?”—he shook the papers in the air—“is ridiculous. Obviously you have more fucking money than you have sense.”

“I only want best for my boy.”

“Your boy is a twenty-three-year-old man.”

“He good fighter, no?”

“Yes. He’s got a lot of potential. I will work him to get to the next level because he has the drive to succeed. He listens. He works hard. And that has nothing to do with you.” Maddox ripped the contract in half. “So if I ever see you or any of your goons in my training room again? I’ll cut Ivan loose. Understood?”

“Yes. I apologize for offending you,” Max said smoothly.

“Does Ivan know you’re here?”

Max sighed again. “No. He will make me pay for this little visit. He stubborn, independent man. Makes me proud, but makes me crazy too.”

Maddox walked back to the door. “I mean it. I even get a whiff of that smelly-ass cologne you’re wearing around here, and your son is done. Done.”

Silence echoed in the room like the aftermath of a shotgun blast.

Max grinned. “I like that one. You did good.”

Un-fucking-real.

Then Max took Shiori’s hand. “When your brother returns and you have free time, I have villa in Italy. It is beautiful this time of year.”

Knox rolled Shiori’s chair away from Max, forcing him to release her. “That is thoughtful of you, Max. Shiori and I have been talking about getting away somewhere just the two of us. Offering us your villa is appreciated.”

Max cocked his head. He looked from Shiori to Knox and back to Shiori. “You and big Viking guy are together?”

“Yes.”

“Such a pity, milaya moya.”

When it looked like Max was reaching for Shiori after calling her some Russian endearment, Knox warned, “Don’t touch her again.”