He smiles at me before gulping the liquid down.
I lower my own glass and walk away.
The throng engulfs me as I slink through with sidesteps and angled glides. I weave between bodies, treating them as shields.
I need to catch Max off guard. I’ll use the people to my advantage, maybe slip into his blind spot.
No one’s paying any attention. I could shove my blade between his ribs in a matter of seconds and push his body under one of these big tables.
I’d be out of town before anyone found him.
Even as the scenario plays out in my mind, I’m well aware it’s a fantasy. Too many witnesses surround us, not to mention security cameras.
Several minutes pass while I drift through conversations, past auction tables, and toward the bar where more people cluster. Max isn’t where I left him.
Of course not. He’s playing the same game.
Casually, I peruse the crowd until I find him near the stage, his back partially to me.
A golden opportunity.
Slowly, I close the distance. I’m maybe five feet away when Max whirls and blows me a kiss.
He’s stealthy, I’ll give him that.
“Tell me,” he picks up our ongoing discussion like I didn’t just dedicate ten minutes to trying to get the drop on him, “did you fuck the family over just for the thrill, or was there a business reason? You did give up millions in diamonds. Seems like a poor deal.”
The family.
Myfamily.
Except they’re not mine anymore. Not since Roman ripped the necklace off my mother’s body.
I ignore his question. “How’s your neck?”
He smiles, all teeth and intimidation. “Anika.” He rolls each syllable off his tongue as if tasting them. “That’s not Russian. What is it? Scandinavian?”
“Didn’t Roman tell you?” Even though my pulse hammers wildly in my head, I manage to keep my voice flat. My breath lodges in my throat.
He shakes his head. “Your dad didn’t tell me anything.”
“Don’t call him that.” The command snaps out sharper than I intended.
A few nearby guests glance over, their chatter faltering.
I force a congenial look and lower my voice. “I’m sure he told you something.”
Max regards me with those cold blue eyes. “He told me to bring you back alive.”
I laugh. “Oh, that’s never going to happen.”
“We both agree on that. Because I’m loyal to the Pakhan, not to his too-soft feelings. To keep him safe, I’m going to kill you. After tonight, you’ll never fuck with my family again.”
He claims them with such conviction. Like he views the Kozlovs as his blood, his people to protect.
I guess they are now.
I haven’t been a Kozlov since my father murdered my mother. I gave up his name the day he betrayed her, and I’ve never regretted that decision. I don’t want to be part of a family full of liars and killers. People who would slaughter their loved ones for a single piece of jewelry.
