Smiling, I hummed to myself as I took comfort in the pungent scent of the herbs, my mind replaying the fabulous wedding dinner. After dessert, Viktor made love to me again, this time in the pooling blood of his enemies, and it was perfect.

I carefully measured the henbane and, after undergoing the mortar and pestle, it was added to my tincture. Mixed with my special combination of herbs, I was able to create a deadly concoction that would incapacitate even the most formidable opponents.

Once completed, I poured the poison into a small, ornate vial. I might use it on Viktor’s godfather, or his father, or perhaps both men if the opportunity presented itself. I did not like the way they upset my husband.

With the vial securely tucked into a hidden pocket in my gown, I took one last look at myself in the mirror. My appearance was immaculate, my resolve firm.

Viktor came to collect me.

“You look amazing,” he murmured and kissed my shoulder. He laced his arm in mine and led me downstairs.

Outside, we climbed into the limo waiting for us. As I fixed my dress around me, I felt Viktor’s eyes boring a hole into my side profile.

“What?”

“Are you ready for this?” he asked.

I had to remind myself that my dear husband had no idea how I had gone up against dangerous men before. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Viktor chuckled softly, placed an arm around my waist and pulled me close. He pressed kisses along the side of my neck. “You smell delicious.”

Melting into him, I enjoyed the ride.

When we turned onto the drive, Viktor muttered a curse under his breath, his mood noticeably darker as he read a text. I knew the ruined engagement to the woman his father had chosen was a thorn in his side, as calls kept coming in about his surprise nuptials to me. He had warned that our relationship would likely be met with resistance.

The grandeur of the estate captivated me, now that I was seeing it with different eyes. As an employee working a party, I didn’t bother to take in the lavish atmosphere of old money. It was amazing. The exquisite landscape. The fountains. The uniformed men who ran to open the limo door.

As we ascended the spiraling staircase, I felt like I had stepped into a grand theater of secrets and intrigue. Viktor led the way to a large dining hall. The room, grandiose andimposing, was eerily empty despite the table being set for dinner.

I glanced at Viktor, trying to gauge his feelings, but he appeared deep in thought, seemingly anticipating the imminent arrival of his father.

Soon, an old man, exuding an aura of authority and danger, slowly approached us. His gait was deliberate, and though he might seem frail to a casual observer, I felt the raw power emanating from him.

Taking a deep breath, I broke the silence. “Hello, I’m Tiffany Petrov. Pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Petrov?” The old man growled, his brows furrowing. “I thought Roger was joking.”

I met the old man’s icy gaze. “No joke. I’m proud to take the Petrov name.”

The standoff was interrupted by the sound of heels clicking against the floor. A petite woman, all grace and beauty, approached us, her confidence evident in every step. Viktor’s father stood and greeted her warmly. The affection seemed genuine.

“I’m Viktor’s fiancée. And you are?” she asked, sizing me up.

“I’m his wife,” I declared boldly, making sure she grasped the full weight of my words.

She muttered something in a language I didn’t understand, in a mix of shock and anger. Harsh words were exchanged in Russian, and though I didn’t know what Viktor said, the point he wanted to make was obviously quite clear to the woman. She lifted her nose and sniffed, but snapped her mouth shut.

Dinner was a relatively mundane affair with all the discomfort of family drama. Viktor, his father, and godfather spoke business. Though the two older men spoke in Russian, my husband refused. He would only respond in English.

“You don’t have to do that for me,” I whispered in his ear.

He smiled. “They all know English. They are choosing to be rude to you. I won’t have it.”

I kissed his cheek.

After dinner, we all retired to a masculine, old world study. Viktor was sipping on whisky, but his father favored straight vodka.

I hid my irritation at the woman who stood too close to Viktor’s side. Her persistent advances were testing my patience.