Page 193 of Lethal Legacy

Because shewasborn to it,I realize with a discomforting jolt.And the place she grew up occupying is one Inger can only dream about.

It’s not Lucia Lopez, waitress and au pair, who got into this limo tonight.

It’s Darya fucking Petrovsky.

And I’ve never wanted her more.

Inger, not in the least mollified by Nikolai’s compliment, picks an imaginary piece of fluff from her skintight, sequined sheath, which shows far too much of her ample chest. “This is a custom-made Versace.”

Darya stares out of the window with supreme disinterest. “Is it.”

“Romie.” Inger reverts to the petulant whine that sets my teeth on edge. “When we arrive, you and I need to go ahead with the children. Nikolai and Lucia will follow us.”

“Leave the arrangements to me, Inger.” I give her a look hard enough to make her clamp her lips together sullenly.

We fall into an uncomfortable silence. I try not to look at Darya as the limo speeds through the darkness. She’s sitting diagonally opposite me, curled into the door. Masha, next to her, is sitting bolt upright and gripping her hand tightly, sitting as far away from Inger as possible.

Mickey, opposite Darya, is watching her warily, but she avoids his eyes, just as she does mine.

She’s staring out of the window as if she’s already gone.

I have an almost compulsive urge to lean over and grasp her arm, force her to look at me. I can’t shake the strange feeling that the speeding limo is catapulting us all toward some dangerous future, a place I’m not ready to meet yet.

The kids, clearly sensing the tension, sit ramrod straight, all looking anywhere but at their mother. Inger’s expression is growing darker by the second.

“Ofelia.” Her sharp tone makes me grind my teeth. “You could at least have worn the Gucci earrings I bought for you, instead of those department store knockoffs.”

“Those earrings are original pieces from the House of Fabergé, Inger, and they’re over a century old.” Her confused expression triggers an oddly reckless desire I haven’t felt in a long time. “They once belonged to Czar Nicholas’s daughter. And they aren’t just expensive—they’re fucking priceless.”

Ofelia gives a horrified little gasp. Darya stiffens but doesn’t move, still staring out of the window.

“But you said—” Ofelia begins, frowning at Darya.

“Roman gave them to her.” Mickey interrupts his sister before she can complete her sentence, glaring at me. “For your sixteenth birthday, Ofelia, didn’t he?”

“Oh.” Looking utterly bewildered, Ofelia nods hesitantly. “Yes, he did.”

Inger looks between us all, her eyes narrowing spitefully. But all she says is, “Please don’t swear around my children, Roman.”

My lips curl. I reach for the Scotch bottle and pour myself a glass, then one for Nikolai. “Take this,” I growl at him. “You’re going to need it.”

The limo speeds on into the night.

Luis opens the door and stands aside. I step out and extend my hand to Ofelia, drawing her out with me.

The paparazzi go predictably nuts, bulbs flashing from every direction.

“Roman! Who’s your date?”

“She’s not my date.” I give them the Hale Property CEO fucking smile. “This is my daughter, Ofelia Stevanovsky.” Ofelia smiles at me nervously and presses close to my side. I’m aware of Nikolai helping a glowering Inger out just behind me, but I blatantly ignore them both. A moment later, Mickey comes to stand nearby, Darya’s arm tucked through his own, Masha still clinging to her hand. The clicking intensifies.

“My son,” I say, turning to indicate Mickey. “And my youngest, Masha.”

I gently extricate Darya’s arm from Mickey’s and place her on my other arm. Mickey takes Masha and walks around us to stand beside Ofelia, placing himself protectively on the outside of his sisters.

“And this,” I say, drawing Darya forward, “is my date. Miss Lucia Lopez.”

I don’t wait for their questions, and I completely ignore a furious Inger, who is currently standing two paces behind us. Turning my family toward the red-velvet-covered stairs, I walk them slowly up toward the entrance to the ballroom, cameras tracking every step.

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