Page 7 of Emerald Malice

“You’ll have to find another wedding guest to proposition for sex. I’m not interested.”

“I believe you were the one propositioning me,” I remind her.

“I wasn’t… That wasn’t… You misunderstood…” When I chuckle low, her eyebrows pinch together. “Oh. You’re teasing me.”

“Rude of me, I suppose. Here you are in the throes of a panic attack and I’m screwing with you.”

“I can’t blame you. I know I make it easy.”

I wonder what she means by that. Actually, I’m wondering a lot of things about this little lastochka. Like how someone as guileless as her could have ended up on my brother’s wedding list. She could be a friend of Mila’s, but I met enough of Mila’s simpering friends today to confidently rule that out.

“Remind me: how do you know the bride and groom?”

She pales visibly. She looks as though that’s the worst question I could have possibly asked her. Which of course means it’s the right one to ask. “Uh… just a friend.”

“A friend of Viktor’s or Mila’s?”

She swallows and shuffles from one stilettoed heel to the other. “Um, both.”

“If I didn’t know any better, lastochka—” She flinches when the Russian rolls off my tongue. “—I’d say you were lying to me.”

She wipes her palms on the sides of her dress. “The thing is?—”

Before I can find out what ‘the thing’ is, a resounding ring emanates from my jacket pocket. I pull out my phone to find my second-in-command’s name on the display.

Cursing under my breath, I answer. “What is it, Shura?”

“Just got to the grounds. I’m standing in front of the intruder right now…” There’s something hesitant in Shura’s voice.

“Well? Is he one of Nikolai’s?”

“He isn’t talking—but yes, definitely one of Nikolai’s.”

I have to be careful how I phrase this, considering the second pair of ears in the elevator with me. “You’ll have to convince him it’s in his best interest to chat with us.”

“Uh, right. The thing is—he’s a child.”

I make Shura repeat it to ensure I’m hearing correctly. I get the same answer the second time around. “How young are we talking?”

“Teenager?” he guesses. “He’s about halfway to a mustache, if that paints a helpful picture for you.”

This shit makes me sick to my stomach. What the fuck is Nikolai doing, sending in a boy to do a man’s job? Then again, he’s also the bastard who makes his fortune profiting off the sale of women and children.

Made his fortune that way, rather. Not anymore, though. Not since a few months ago, when I shut down his human trafficking business for good.

Which, incidentally, is what set off this campaign of retaliation against me.

I check the time on my watch. “I won’t be able to get away for another couple of hours. Keep an eye on him until I get there.”

I hang up to find my phone blowing up with texts from Viktor.

VIKTOR: What the fuck? Where are you? Ceremony’s about to start!

VIKTOR: Bro—you’re the fucking best man. Not to mention the goddamn pakhan. You need to be here.

VIKTOR: I can’t believe you’re not here after YOU forced me to marry the bitch.

Sometimes, I forget what an asshole my little brother can be. Luckily, I can always rely on him to remind me.

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