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Isla giggles in delight as Silvia scolds her playfully and tickles the little girl’s tummy.
“Careful, Isla. Don’t scare Mommy like that,” Silvia warns. “Fish are for watching, not touching.”
Isla laughs, not a care in the world, as she enjoys her scolding far too much. I press my lips together, fighting my laughter as I capture a few more pictures.
“Sorry, I think we lost our places.” Silvia laughs as she tries to set Isla back where she belongs.
Lowering my camera, I smile. “It’s fine. I got several good ones, I think. Let’s try a different setup.”
My gaze flicks unwittingly toward Efrem, who stands just off to the side. For a moment, our eyes meet, silently sharing our humor. My stomach flips at the sight of his dancing blue eyes and subtle grin, and it sends a thrill through me to see him enjoying little Isla as much as I am. Why is he so sexy?
He seems to realize his moment of distraction as soon as I do, and his muscles tense as he jerks his gaze back toward the surrounding area to scan for potential danger. But I can hardly blame him as his smile lingers. Silvia and her little toddler steal the show without even trying. I have no doubt I’ll get an A on this project with them as my subject material. They make it all too easy.
We try several more compositions—Silvia engaging Isla in an earthworm finding its way into the damp embankment, both sprawling on the grass to search for shapes in the clouds, Silvia propping Isla on the bridge so they can both peer at their reflections in the Pond’s clear water.
As we call it a day, I pack my camera back in its case, laughing with Silvia as we joke about the terror I’ll find on her face when I develop those first few pictures of the day.
The familiar sound of a shutter clicking draws my attention to the foot of Gapstow Bridge. I frown as I spot a tall, dark-haired man crouching there, his camera pointed directly at me. Before I can open my mouth, he snaps another picture.
“Can I help you?” I ask, suddenly defensive as I step forward to block Silvia and Isla from his camera’s view.
He lowers the device with a devilish grin that takes over his gaunt face. “Anthony Berry from theDaily Dish. Tell me, Dani, how do you feel about your father’s campaign to run for governor?”
My stomach twists uncomfortably as I identify the familiar signs of a paparazzi ambush. While I’ve learned a few tricks of the trade when it comes to managing unwanted publicity—the main one being to kill them with kindness—I’ve never gotten comfortable with the jarring and often invasive attention.
“I’m thrilled for my father. And New York. He will make a wonderful governor if the people choose him, and I support him every step of the way,” I say, donning my most winning smile even as my stomach curdles.
“Perhaps by making some new acquaintances, I see?” Anthony Berry sneers, leaning around me to get a good look at Silvia and Isla. His camera raises slightly as he captures another condemning photo. “Wouldn’t it be such a scandal? Attorney General Richelieu doing business with the notorious Veles family?”
Fuck.
“Hey, who I interact with in my personal time has nothing to do with my father’s business ventures,” I snap, losing my cool as Silvia flinches from the intrusive camera flash and turns Isla away from the unwanted pictures.
“I’m not sure that’s how the public will see it.” The paparazzi parasite seems to bubble over with glee at the sight of my distress. Because he knows he’s got something worth publishing if it’s going to make me squirm.
“You are done,” Efrem states flatly, stepping in front of Anthony Berry’s camera and looming over him intimidatingly. “It is time for you to leave.”
For the first time in my life, I actually witness a member of the paparazzi shrink back. And I don’t blame him. Though Efrem’s attention isn’t even focused on me, the deadly warning in his voice makes my pulse flutter nervously. Anthony Berry hesitates visibly for a moment, seeming to weigh the risks versus the rewards of pushing things further.
My stomach drops as he seems to conclude that he’s untouchable in such a public space.
Scoffing, Anthony tries to sidestep Silvia’s imposing bodyguard. “Tell me, Dani—”
Whatever he wanted me to tell him, I’ll never know as Efrem cuts his sentence short by stepping in front of the paparazzi member once more.
Anthony huffs, his expression shifting from smug to irritated in an instant. “What, you think you’re immune from the damage of my pen?” he asks, raising his camera and taking a picture of Efrem’s stormy expression. “Just picture the heading ‘Great Russian Oaf Prancing Around the Park with New York’s Own Richelieu Royal—’”
Anthony’s headline dies in a gasp as Efrem snatches the paparazzi man’s camera and literally snaps the thing in two.
“How dare you!” Anthony Berry hisses as the broken remains of plastic and metal clatter onto the cement walkway. “You’ll pay for that. You and the snotty little princesses you’re trying to protect.”
He pales visibly as Efrem plants a strong hand firmly on his shoulder.
“You will go. Now,” the towering Russian commands, shoving the paparazzi member back several steps.
Anthony stumbles, barely staying on his feet as he scrambles away from Efrem. The bodyguard takes a menacing step forward.
“Efrem,” I squeak, heart in my throat as I move to intervene.
