The Sun Always Sets in Paradise

That tall blonde in her short, provocative white dress looked seductively at Maxim. She took no notice of me but began her slow saunter over to him. She spoke out a soft greeting to him when her perfect body was close enough. I assumed she was speaking Russian; as it sounded vaguely familiar to what Max sometimes said.

He replied to her in the foreign language only to receive a disbelieving chuckle from her. She now stood in front of both of us. The blonde was taller than me. Almost as tall as Max but I assumed that it was from the white stilettos that she wore.

I admired her shoes, mainly because they were really cute. But I also envied her perfectly manicured feet, her long, toned legs, and her curvy body. Yes, I had curve as well but around her, I was instantly feeling like I was put to shame by her immaculate beauty.

"Who is your pet, Maxxy?" Her tone, although thickly accented, was mocking as she looked down on me.

I stared up into the brown eyes of hers that matched the tone of her voice. Everything about her was mocking as she referred to me.

"My date." Max replied to her stiffly, while repeated the term I had used for him when introducing him to Mr. Williams. "And don't call me Maxxy.

She gave him a look of disapproval. "Oh, honey you're fine. Well, I take that back... You could do so much better."

I was enraged at what she was saying and implying. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Talking about me when I'm right here is not very mature. Grow the fuck up and at least have the decency to talk either around or directly to me like a fucking adult." I venomously, and boldly, hissed at her.

Her eyes widened as she looked at me rather appalled. "You little bitch! How dare you speak to me with so much disrespect." Her voice rose just a fraction before she burst out laughing. "I approve! You have some balls, girl."

Now it was my turn to look appalled. What was with all of the crazy, bi-polar women tonight? Really!

"Well then," the blonde bitch turned her attention back to the tense Russian male standing next to me, "have you conversed with your uncle yet?"

The muscles jumped in Max's jaw as he met her eyes evenly and coolly. "No." He response was terse.

"Well, he was around here somewhere a moment ago. Better hide your darling here." She gestured to me. "He has heard about her and would like to meet with the quaint girl."

I was lost. Completely and utterly lost. So, I grabbed Max's hand, which was balled into a fist, and gently pursued to hold his hand for comfort. Max was resistant at first but greedily grabbed a hold of my hand and held tightly.

"How did he know about her?" Max finally asked after a moment's pause.

The blonde gestured at Jeremiah Williams, who stood a few meters away in deep conversation with an older gentleman. "He heard through Mr. Williams and it was said that Mr. Williams heard about her through his nephew." She paused in thought. "I believe the boy's name was along the names of Haman or something or another."

"Haden?" I had to try to force my voice above a whisper.

Recognition lite up the blonde's eyes. "Yes! You must know him!"

"Yes we do." Max's voice had become incredibly strained with anger and barely concealed worry. But I caught it all, even if the provocative blonde bitch didn't.

I gravely nodded in agreement. I was going to be sick. I pulled away from Max and walked stiffly away. I moved around people in hopes of finding some area I could have immediate privacy.

However, it took me a while to find somewhere private but I finally stumbled into a study. I wasn't positive how I got there but I just was there. I found myself sitting on the edge of an expensive, leather chair.

My breathing had become rapid and perspiration began to form on my brow. I was going to be sick. My stomach churned along with my mind. And yet, with all that I was feeling, I wasn't quite positive why this was spurring this kind of reaction from me. Was it the way Max had actually sounded slightly worried? He never seemed to worry about anything concerning that bastard, Haden.

Now that I really sat down and tried to sort out my thoughts, realization seemed to nail me right in the face. The mere mention of Max uncle had spurred something in him that caused the air around him to feel somehow charged. It felt like Max was angry, hateful, and afraid at the same time.

I started to have a panic attack. If Max was scared of something, then it was bad. Nothing seemed to scare him. He was too protective. Too disciplined. Too strong.

I knew that I should be worried. I should be afraid. Very afraid... even if I didn't know what was going on.