I snake my arm around her waist. “You’re the most beautiful woman here.”
“Do you see him?” She swivels her head, pretending to not hear me. “What if he doesn’t show up?”
“That dress fits you like a second skin. Will you let me peel it off you when we get back home?”
“I’m not a piece of fruit,” she grumbles.
“Your pussy sure tastes like one.”
She sucks in a harsh breath and starts chugging her champagne.
I stop her. “Careful. You don’t want to get drunk.”
“Then stop making me need it, Nero,” she hisses. “Whatever you’re doing, that’s enough.”
“Just admit—” I begin, but a familiar face by the entrance catches my eye.
Maksim. And his wife.
I lower my lips to Blake’s ear. “They just walked in. The wife is wearing a green dress.”
Blake gives her half-empty glass to a waiter and throws a discreet glance toward the other side of the room. “Yeah, I see. I recognize him from the photos. He looks older though.”
“Maybe it’s the stress from the last few weeks. The Ferraros have been picking off their vors like flies. The pakhan can’t be happy.”
“Then why does Gino need us if he’s capturing so many of their men?”
“Because the pakhan has a near endless supply of soldiers he can throw at the problem. He imports them from Siberia, where his brother has built a private army.”
Blake arches her brows and shakes her head, her gaze sliding back to Maxim. “I’ll never understand why someone would want to throw their life away by working for someone like that.”
“You’re judging them too harshly. For most, it’s their only chance at a better life. Not much upward mobility in the remote regions of Russia. People do what they have to in order to survive.”
She looks like she wants to debate, but this isn’t the time or place. I press a kiss to her cheek. “C’mon, let’s go to our table. Dinner is about to start. We don’t want them to notice us just yet.”
Blake loops her arm through mine, and we merge with the crowd moving into the room next door.
It’s fun watching her astonishment as she takes in the grand ballroom. The gala is being held in a glitzy hotel called The Admiral. The place is full of crystal chandeliers, marble columns, and Baroque art on the walls. I think I got very drunk in the lobby bar once.
“So beautiful.” Her hand tightens on my wrist, her brand-new wedding ring sparkling in the light. Seeing it on her hand makes my chest swell with pride.
Mine, the caveman inside of me growls.
The tables seat twelve people, so we spend a good five minutes on introductions. By the time we take our seats, Blake looks uneasy.
“I already forgot most of their names,” she whispers to me. “I’m terrible with that. Who’s the woman with the gold brooch in her hair?”
I shrug. “No clue.”
“Very helpful,” Blake mutters as she hangs her purse on the back of her chair.
“These people don’t matter. There are only two we need to pay attention to. They’re three tables to our right.”
Her brows furrow as she searches for Maksim. She confirms she found him with a small nod. “I see them.”
An elderly man in a tux comes up to the podium to deliver introductory remarks about the organization benefiting from the gala—the Wallace Arts and Literature Foundation.
He drones on about the foundation’s beginnings and its accomplishments to date. I genuinely couldn’t care less.
