"No, I don't think so," Calvin replies. "On one hand, you're throwing this party for a reason, correct?"
I nod. As per Kon's instructions, Ethan and Calvin are the other people entrusted with the reason behind the party.
"You also don't want them to think Kon is scrimping on the party either."
My eyes widen and I smile. "What I'm hearing is that we should also show off how rich Kon is?"
Calvin nods.
"How rich is he?" I tilt my head. "Is there even a number for how much money he has?"
"If there is, I don't know it," Calvin chuckles. "It's ironic how much these hardened criminals actually care about presentation. It almost makes no sense given how gritty this life is."
"The big house," I murmur. "The fancy cars, the gigantic gardens, and pretty wives." My teeth sink into my lower lip. "It's almost reality TV worthy."
Calvin lets out a snort. "Can you imagine? The Housewives of Organized Crime." He spreads his hands wide as if rolling out the title. "It would make millions within one episode."
"Billions," I laugh softly. "Okay so catering is ordered and sorted. I've noted everyone's dietary requirements. All the girls have been hired, including the dancers, the musicians, and the beautiful working girls. I'll order the sculpture…" I pencil it in on the notepad in my lap and glance at my phone. "Kon's suit is due from the tailor and he said he got me a dress." I squint back up at Calvin. "Do you know what it looks like?"
Calvin shakes his head. "No clue."
"Hm. He wouldn't make me look frumpy, would he?"
"You've seen how he dresses." Calvin leans against one of the stone pillars and tilts his head into the shade. "I doubt the word frumpy is even in his vocabulary."
I nod slowly and glance back at my pad, then meet Calvin's eyes. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything." The ease with which he responds is almost alarming.
"Is he always so…" My lips purse as I search for the right word. "Nice?"
"Nice?" Calvin's cheek indents slightly. "I don't know anyone who would describe him as nice."
My stomach twists into a hot knot. "How would they describe him?"
"Competent. Loyal. Powerful. Restrained." Calvin reels off the words. "But those people, and even me, get a different version of him than you get. In my experience, Konstantin is very measured in what he shows people. So regretfully, the only person who would know the Kon you see is?—"
"Lianna." I cut in softly. Kon's late wife. Her name slipped one evening while we were sharing dinner but rather than shy away from it, Kon admitted how hard her passing was and then quickly moved the conversation on.
He's a man who has loved and lost, and now I'm a snake in his garden trying to get pregnant so I can save my family from slaughter. Somehow, in this twisted criminal underworld, I'm the bad guy.
And I'm still not pregnant.
Matthew hasn't been back since the day he threatened me in the garden and he hasn't responded to any of my messages either.
The silence is deafening and the uncertainty about the condition of my family is smothering.
I do my best to hide it.
Taking a deep breath, I scroll through my phone to the keypad and type in the number of the sculpture shop. It connects straight away and within ten minutes, a sculpture of several birds of prey is set to be delivered on the morning of the party.
"I kind of like having this much monetary freedom," I say with a smile as Calvin suddenly stiffens slightly.
"Should I be concerned?" comes Kon's voice from behind me. He steps through the patio doors and his brow dips against the bright sunlight. "Will I be weeping when I see the bill for all of this?"
I swivel in my seat and flash him a smirk. "Can you really put a price on the truth?"
"No," he replies smoothly. "I suppose you cannot." He stops an inch away from me and his large shadow drapes over me like a blanket. "Have you completed the guest list?"
