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***
In a few days I was headed to St. Petersburg but tonight I had plans for my Katya. She looked gorgeous in an emerald-green dress, sitting in the back of the Bentley.
I had forty-eight hours to cement our relationship. To bind her irrevocably to me, according to both the law and to Bratva tradition. I also had to do it in a way that wouldn’t raise any suspicions. But first I had another stop to make. Aslanov wasn’t the only man on my list. The one on the very top of it was part of my long game. So far, he’d proven to be a lot like a hydra—every time I chopped off one head that serviced him, another one popped up. So was the life of a politician. He was rotten to the core, his stench reaching everyone working for him. I had to peel through layers upon layers of filth before I could reach his foul core and rip out his heart.
Katya sat across from me, her legs crossed demurely. Her satin halter dress was riding up and left a thigh half bare. All thoughts of plotting my revenge vanished.
Her eyes brightened when we pulled up in front of the restaurant.
“How did you know I’ve been wanting to go to Palette?”
“I have my resources.”
She smiled. “Tommie can’t stop raving about this place’s eight-course menu.”
Eight courses? We were going to be here for hours. The little Smurf hadn’t told me that when I’d asked about a place to take Katya.
I guided her inside while contemplating a way to shorten this part of the night. A waiter showed us a table in a secluded corner, just as I’d requested. He served us wine, handed us menus, and gave Katya a warm smile.
She smiled back at him and I tensed. I wanted to bash his head in. Not good. This was not good.
I looked away and out of habit checked out every inch of the restaurant. Damon had already secured the place, but some habits were hard to shake. A party of six sat to our right, among whom was my target of the evening, Evie Ryan. She was my half-sister by blood. Sometimes the gods favored me and I could combine work with pleasure.
Our first course arrived—smoked sturgeon and a tuna carpaccio. I enjoyed Katya’s delight over the meal more than the food itself.
A sudden flash in the corner of my eye lit up the room. Heads turned to the right and restaurant waitstaff rushed over to the table where a reporter had popped up.
Katya frowned when she recognized my target. “Poor girl, she can’t even have a meal without reporters harassing her.”
“Poor girl?” I asked in mild surprise.
She pierced a piece of tuna with her fork. “Evie Ryan, the senator’s daughter. He’s a real family man, and one of the few politicians out there who hasn’t been plagued by scandal. It can’t be easy being his daughter. I mean, the man is thinking about running for president.”
There was a reason the skeletons in senator Ryan’s closet had stayed there. He’d always managed to bury them before anyone could find them. I didn’t tell her that, of course. Katya was already entrenched enough in my world without knowing any details. I wasn’t even sure why I’d chosen this place, except that I’d wanted to observe Evie before her life got ruined. Which would be any minute now.
I hadn’t even orchestrated anything myself—my spies had merely told me about a certain videotape that was circulating on the dark web. As any blackmailer worth his salt would, the owner of the video had offered it to the senator first, going where the money was and to who would have most to lose if the video got released. To my surprise, the good old senator hadn’t taken the bait.
I saw nothing of myself in the girl. Evie Ryan seemed like a cliché airhead socialite, all skin and bones with a perpetual smile on her face as she entertained her guests. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes though, and there was a nervous tap to her fingers.
“I love this place,” Katya gushed. Unlike Evie’s, Katya’s smile lit up the entire room.
Forgotten were Evie and the destruction of her family. “How many more courses?” My voice was hoarse, my dick hardening.
“Only five more.”
“Only?”
Her finger trailed along her bottom lip, then she chuckled. The little cat knew exactly what she was doing to me.
“I’m going to impale you on my dick and swat your ass.”
“Kristoff!” she hissed as her eyes darted around, afraid someone might hear me.
“Your ass will be as pink as your cheeks by the time I’m done with you.”
She was still giving me the stink eye when the next course was brought to the table. That was followed by yet another one. I was going to kill Tommie Green for suggesting this place.
Evie Ryan’s table got louder as the evening went on. One man who sat next to her winked at Katya and stared at her chest. Unfortunately, using the knife strapped to my side to slit his throat would probably upset Katya.
