Page 52 of Ivory Ashes

Busy getting married and then having the first of many fights with my husband less than five minutes after we walked down the aisle.

Such a promising start.

What is actually promising is the fact that Mikhail is nowhere in sight this morning.

Maybe, just maybe, he’s going to keep his distance. Dante and I will live in this house, but we won’t have to deal with him much. He may be a raging control freak, but he can’t keep tabs on everyone all the time, right?

Then we turn the corner and find Anatoly grinning in the entrance hall. “You all ready to go?”

“Where are we going?” I ask while Dante repeats “climate controlled” under his breath, trying to make sure he’s got it down.

Anatoly winks. “You’ll find out.”

He leads our party onto the porch where a large SUV is idling in the driveway. A middle-aged man with a buzzed head is standing next to the open backseat.

“Viviana, meet Pyotr,” Anatoly says, gesturing at the driver. “Pyotr, Viviana.”

Pyotr looks like a boulder disguised as a driver, his broad chest nearly popping the buttons of his black suit. He reaches to shake my hand just as Dante wiggles between us.

“And Dante!” he adds, squinting up at Pyotr against the bright morning sun.

Pyotr squats down to one knee, grinning. “Especially Dante. We could never forget you. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Being nice to Dante has always been the fastest way to my good side, but these people are going to have to work a lot harder than this. Working for Mikhail puts them at a disadvantage.

“Where are we going?” I ask again.

Stella opens her mouth to answer, but Anatoly interrupts. “We’ll tell you on the way.”

The secrecy has me imagining underground bunkers. Maybe some compound outside of the city where Mikhail keeps his harem of women. He said he didn’t have one, but do I really want to take his word for it? No. No, I don’t.

Anatoly slips a rainbow-colored lollipop to Dante as he helps him into the backseat and Stella gets Dante strapped into his booster.

If they’re taking us to our doom, they’re being awfully cheery about it.

I climb up to slide in next to Dante, but he waves me off with his lollipop like it’s a baton. “I want to sit next to him.”

I follow the point of his lollipop and find Anatoly beaming through the open door. “Absolutely, little man.” He squeezes his muscular body through the second row seats and into the third row. His knees are in his chest when he sits down, but he’s never looked happier. “It’s cozy back here.”

“It’s just because you gave him candy,” I grumble under my breath to no one in particular.

The entire car shifts as Anatoly leans forward to whisper, “That was the point.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t quite keep from smiling.

Anatoly wants to make a good impression on Dante. That can’t be a bad thing. Plus, our little confessional the other night did, unfortunately, leave me with a pang of sympathy for Anatoly and everything he’s been through. He understands better than anyone else what Dante might face in this world. I like the idea of him taking Dante under his very massive wings.

“Okay. Someone tell me where we’re going,” I demand once I’m strapped in and Pyotr is pulling down the drive.

Stella grins. “Shopping spree!”

“Shopping spree?” I ask. “Is that code for something?”

“It’s code for a shopping spree. Mikhail wants you and Dante to look the part now that you’re?—”

“Living here,” I interrupt, eyes wide.

Dante doesn’t know about the wedding yet and this isn’t how I want him to find out.

---