Page 97 of Emerald Vices

I stand with her, my security detail spreading around the area, pretending like they don’t notice us. Natalia closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths. When she finally opens them again, she looks ever so slightly more composed.

“You won’t leave me, will you?”

“Not until you’re comfortable,” I assure her.

With that promise secured, she grips my arm tightly and we stride into the lounge.

Cevdet, Luca and Bujar are all present, as are their wives, dripping in jewels and floor-length evening gowns. “Well, well,” Cevdet thunders, drawing all eyes to him as usual. “If it isn’t the lucky woman who managed to win the heart of our young leader.”

Natalia’s cheeks burn pink, but she smiles politely. “Pleasure to meet all of you.”

The wives eye her from head to toe, and Natalia takes a step back, pressing into me.

“Just be yourself,” I whisper in her ear. “It worked on me.”

She clears her throat and reluctantly lets my forearm slide out of her hands. With one more mournful sigh, she takes a seat at the ladies’ table.

“You’ll have to forgive my nerves,” she says by way of introduction. “This world is all a little new and confusing for me. So if I use the wrong fork at dinner, please don’t, like, burn me at the stake or anything.”

There’s a momentary pause as if the room is holding its breath. Then, one by one, they all laugh.

Leonora, Cevdet’s wife, pats Natalia’s arm. “You have nothing to worry about. And if I may say, you look absolutely wonderful. I never looked half as lovely when I was pregnant.”

Natalia blushes. “Thank you. I feel like a cow.”

Bujar’s wife barks out a laugh. “Wait ‘til you start breastfeeding. Then you’ll really feel like a cow.”

“Motherhood,” Cevdet mutters in what passes for a whisper from him. “It’s the great unifier. They won’t stop blabbing for hours now.”

As the men make their way to the armchairs in the corner, I catch Natalia’s eye. She winks, letting me know I’m free to leave her.

To think I was ever worried about her in the first place.

“She’s stunning, Andrey,” Cevdet crows once we’re out of earshot. “And it seems, very pregnant, too.”

“I’m keeping that news quiet for now, gentleman. No need to tempt fate.”

“Wise choice, my friend.” Luca passes out crystal tumblers filled with whisky and we toast to the future and our new business prospects.

But the revelry lasts only through the first sip.

“I received word of increased surveillance on several of our trading routes yesterday,” Bujar informs us, jumping straight into it. “If this continues, we might have to close a few temporarily.”

Luca puts down his whiskey. “You think our operation has been compromised so soon?”

“I think we need to tread carefully. We have more people watching us than we might suspect. And not for the reasons we might suspect, either.” His gaze falls directly on me. No prizes for guessing what he might be thinking.

“News travels fast, Andrey,” Cevdet booms. “Apparently, the Bratva has more to worry about than we originally assumed.”

I take an unbothered sip of my whiskey. “If you’re referring to my father, I’m dealing with that.”

“You don’t seem concerned.” Luca’s eyes bore into my face.

“That’s because there’s nothing to be concerned about. The old man is out of his depth. I’m simply giving him the respect of a subtle defeat. If he were anyone else, he’d be nothing more than smoldering ash by now.”

“Still, we need to consider alternate routes,” Bujar says. “And perhaps a little more manpower.”

“And if that doesn’t cut it?” Luca asks.

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