Marguerite’s smile tightened. “Still smart-mouthed. Chauncey always said you had a mouth that needed discipline.”
My husband went completely still.
Behind us, Juvie said, very softly, “Ma’am, this is not the time to choose violence.”
Marguerite ignored him. Her eyes stayed on me.
“Standing here dressed up, playing a rich man's wife, like you didn’t destroy a family. You lied like my nephew was a monster, then destroyed him because you spread your legs for a real monster.”
Targen moved so fast I barely caught his arm.
“Targen,” I hissed.
He looked down at me. I saw something in his face that made my grip tighten. I didn't know what was going on, and I couldn't stand the thought of his being hurt.
“Baby... Not yet,” I whispered.
Marguerite laughed. “Could this really be one of the great and mighty Sidorovs? Look at you. She got you trained already. Virginia, do you see this?”
Virginia was angry, but she was less sure than Marguerite. She seemed a little more afraid, like she should have been. I could feel the murder in my husband's tight body. Virginia Armstrong, Esquire, liked to fight, but she liked her dirty battles in a courtroom. This was not her style, and it was showing. She was scared. I couldn’t focus on that, though, because as I looked around the room, my own fear started getting tangled up with confusion.
Prime stood a few feet from Marguerite’s men, hands in his pockets. Ajani was near the side exit, relaxed, easy like Sunday morning. Braeden had positioned himself by the table where my grandparents sat, but he looked bored too. Even Real stood with one arm around Everly, his eyes on Marguerite, not worried. He looked annoyed. My heart picked up its rhythm. What was this?
Marguerite lifted her hand. “You all think this family is untouchable because they got money. All these white men with accents, and of course, Black men willing to play guard dog.”
In my peripheral vision, I caught movement. Sergei Sidorov had shifted on his chair. Mr. Sergei’s brows rose slightly. Ms.Joia patted his hand like she was trying to calm him. Marguerite looked toward him and smiled wider. “And look what we have here. The great Sergei Sidorov.”
Mr. Sergei stood and buttoned his suit jacket lazily. “You have the nerve to speak on my son and me. Do I know you?”
Juvie laughed quietly. “Papadisrespectful as hell, ain’t it?”
Marguerite’s face tightened. “You will.”
“No,” Sergei said. “I will not.”
Something about the way he said it made Virginia take a small step back. Marguerite either had no fear or no sense.
“You Sidorovs have taken too much from my family. You took Chauncey's mind. You took Kemp's body. You came here with your money and your guns and thought nobody could answer to you.”
Targen’s head tilted to one side. “Please… go on.”
Her smile returned, looking all mean and satisfied, like she knew something they didn’t.
“I know you been wondering who been helping me. Who moving pieces while y’all busy planning weddings and playing house. The Millers ain’t the only ones with reach.Moi russkiye druz'ya peredayut privet.”
Frowning, I looked at Targen.
“My Russian friends say hello,” he translated, his voice tight.
Marguerite looked pleased by the reaction. “That’s right. Y’all not so calm now.”
But actually… they were. They were still too calm. Targen slid one hand into his pocket. “Who told you your Russian friends were coming?” he asked.
Marguerite cleared her throat softly. It was quick, but I heard it. She wasn’t as sure as she was putting on.
“What?” she snapped.
Targen’s voice stayed flat. “Who told you they would stand with you tonight?”
