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With a glance at Kira, I headed out of the bedroom so I could speak freely. “Go ahead and get changed,” I said in a loud whisper to her. “This will only take a minute.”
“No it won’t,” Ivan said, overhearing. “Those sons of bitches have killed two more of our people, and they’ve made off with an entire container of art that was delivered last night.”
I didn’t bother asking why anything was being delivered in the dead of night, because of course, I knew. The art in question was inevitably stolen already, acquired by Theresa’s family’s contacts overseas, and sent to us to sell in the many upscale galleries we control here in Miami. It was incredibly lucrative and the addition of new millions to our coffers had me scrambling during the last tax season, but no one in my family was willing to give up that kind of money lightly.
“What do you want me to do about it?” I asked. “Isn’t that the Orlov’s problem now? Didn’t I marry Kira in the first place to get the Boston issues under control?”
“This particular shipment doesn’t have anything to do with them.”
“Still don’t see how this is my problem,” I said stubbornly, thinking about that little red bikini on Kira’s body.
“We have intel that some dirty cop up there was involved in this. I need you to find out what you can through your police network. Someone will know something, then we can intercept our goods and take care of the culprits. The Orlovs are out of this one, Yuri. Don’t bring them up again. This is tens of millions and our honor on the line. That’s five of our people those bastards have taken out by now.”
This wasn’t something I could take care of by phone while lolling around the pool. It would take finesse, possibly some subtle bribes, or not so subtle threats. The morning was ruined, the rest of the day canceled before it began. I told Ivan I was on it, because of course I was. Family always came first, and in truth, the fact that more people had been killed made me angry enough to want to do more than just talk to my contacts in the police force and have them put out feelers.
Back in the bedroom, Kira was dressed in a yellow sundress, sitting innocently on the bed. Much too innocently, making me wonder if she’d been listening at the door. Not that she would have gleaned much from my side of the conversation, but I still didn’t like it.
“Was that a tax thing you want to share with me?” she asked.
Sarcasm really didn’t suit her. “No, but I do need to go to work today after all.”
“I used to be a pretty good intern, remember?”
I nodded, not liking where this was heading. “Drop it, Kira.”
“I was just trying to be helpful.”
“There’s plenty to do at home. You can unpack, get used to the house—”
“Sounds scintillating.”
I ignored her jibes and she soon fell silent, a silence that lasted the drive back to my house. I kept cutting glances at her as we got closer, winding through the exclusive waterfront neighborhood after we drove over the short causeway and got onto the private island with only ten other houses. The place had been a vanity purchase to keep up appearances as a wealthy member of the social elite and be able to host fundraisers in style, but deep down when I bought it, I imagined raising a family there.
Her eyes widened as she took in the sprawling, Spanish style mansion, complete with a balcony that crossed the entire upper floor, a massive central courtyard shaded by carefully curated palm trees and trellises of exotic tropical flowers. When we pulled up into the circular drive, she stuck her head out of the window to take it all in.
“I hope you’ll be comfortable here,” I said.
“What kind of person wouldn’t be comfortable here?” she asked, seeming sincere for once. “How rich are you?”
“Very, very, freaking rich, Kira. Does that matter to you? Does that make things better?”
She frowned. “It doesn’t make things worse.”
Once again she caught me off guard with her honesty and I laughed. Another car pulled up behind us and I saw Theresa getting out, looking harried. She probably wasn’t overly pleased to have pulled babysitting duty when she had new twins at home, but I was more worried about Kira’s mood when she found out she wasn’t going to be left alone.
It couldn’t be helped, but I somehow wanted to ease her anger, make her see she might really be happy here if she tried. More than anything I wished we could leave reality behind for a few more hours, but that wasn’t an option. Her fresh scowl at sighting Theresa brought on a bleak mood that I funneled into anger at Ivan, at the situation in Boston, at the fact I was in so deep. Both with my family’s business, and now with Kira, if my moods changing with hers was any indication.
“Have fun,” I said with forced cheer, reaching to squeeze her hand.
She snatched it out of my grasp and slammed out of the car, not looking back once as she swept into my house. Our house now. Hopefully it wouldn’t be hell on earth, but I wasn’t actually hopeful at all.
Chapter 8 - Kira
I was furious that I got too impatient, ruining my chances to get Yuri to tell me anything, doubly furious that it wrecked our romantic interlude when I’d been thinking he was so sweet to bring me breakfast in bed. Then I was volcanic level pissed off when his brother called and stole him away from me. Of course he wouldn’t share a peep about his mysterious errand and shut down my offer to tag along so fast it made my head spin.
The volcano simmered down a bit when I saw Yuri’s mansion. Wow. It was the most amazing property I’d ever seen, including Ivan and Reina’s place where we’d had the wedding. I grew up around ill-gotten wealth and was always surrounded by luxury, but this was on another level. This was movie star, or even royalty worthy. It personified the natural beauty of Southern Florida, with all the trees, flowering shrubs and wild-looking giant succulents. The pale pink stucco against the brilliant blue sky, along with the coppery orange roof tiles was different from anything in Moscow, which was all the more reason to love it. Ever since I landed here with barely eighty dollars in my pocket, a tenuous grasp on the language, and a bone deep exhaustion from the constant fear of my father’s wrath, I fell in love with every last inch of Miami. Was I really going to live in this pinnacle of everything I adored?
Now, I wasn’t really mercenary. I truly loved living in my tiny, shabby apartment, because it came without any screaming, berating, smacks, or kicks. I could have happily lived the rest of my life there and been fine with it. But this wasn’t bad, either. This was something else. I was ready to forgive Yuri’s intractability in not taking me along on his errand, at least for the time it took me to explore this absolute treasure trove of a mansion.
