Page 116 of Beautiful Scar

“He knows his business.” I’ve been very happy with Damian’s replacement. Even though I miss my old friend, Alexan is competent and skilled. “I actually need a favor before we head out.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re making a quick stop on the way home. I want you to cover us while I run into a store.”

His eyebrows raise. “That’s not part of the plan.”

“I’m aware, but it’s on the route. The car won’t deviate. It’ll only take a moment.”

“We’re supposed to do the exact same thing every time. You know that.”

“I’m aware,” I say, tightening my jaw. “But this is important.”

He gives me a searching look. If it were anyone else, I’d order him to shut up and obey, or else I’d break his fucking neck. The problem is, Evan’s my wife’s brother, and he’s only worried about her safety. I can’t fault him for that.

But he still annoys the hell out of me.

“Fine. Just make sure it doesn’t fuck things up.” Evan turns and stalks back to his car.

I climb into the SUV beside Dasha. She puts a hand on my knee. “Everything okay?” she asks gently. “Evan looks annoyed.”

“He’ll get over it.” I grunt at Grigor in Armenian to start driving and make sure he stops where we discussed earlier. The cheeky bastard has the nerve to grin at me in the rearview mirror but quickly composes himself when he spots my vicious stare.

Dasha’s quiet on the drive, but she seems content and settled. Even though we’re out of the house, it doesn’t seem to bother her all that much. I like the way she smiles out the window and watches the city flit past. I keep my eyes on her, drinking her in, reveling in the sight of my beautiful pregnant wife.

Halfway back home, Grigor pulls over at the curb. We’re still on the route, though, which makes this tiny deviation only marginally risky.

“Wait here,” I murmur, kissing her cheek. When I get out, I spot several of Evan’s Russian men lurking nearby, keeping a close watch.

I push into Moonfire Adornments, and Vasya Petrova is already waiting there to welcome me. “Ah, there you are, Tigran.” She comes and fusses over me, kissing my cheek and beaming. I have no idea how old this woman is—she could be thirty or ninety. But she’s perfectly dressed in loose skirts and a button-down top, her silver-threaded hair pulled back in a bun.

“It’s good to see you, Vasya. Do you have the piece we discussed?”

“Of course, of course, and you’re in a rush, no?” She picks up a large ring box from the counter and hands it over. I flip it open and stare. “Flawless, oval-cut diamond, platinum band, with a very lovely barely-there bezel almost like it’s floating. I call it the solstice ring, but you can call it whatever you like, darling.”

“Perfect,” I murmur, struggling to hold back the emotions that tug at me. The ring is gorgeous and simple, exactly like my beautiful Dasha. “Thank you, Vasya. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“That lucky wife of yours will love it.Schastlivogo puti i zdorov’ya.”

“Spasibo, i vam togo zhe.”

“Your Russian’s getting very good,” she says, sounding delighted, and waves as I hurry back out of the shop.

Dasha looks at me quizzically as I climb back in beside her. “What were you doing in there?” she asks.

Grigor pulls out immediately, and we’re back on the road. “Just wanted to get something special.” I hold the ring box up and let her take a look.

Her brows raise. “And what’s in there?”

“I was thinking about waiting until we got home, but now seems like a good time. You’re healthy, the baby is healthy, and we’re past the first trimester.”

“A good time for what, love?” she asks very gently.

I open the box and show her the ring. Her eyes widen, and one hand moves to cover her mouth in surprise.

“I know we’re already married,” I tell her, reaching out to take her hand. “But my kitten, that wedding didn’t do how I feel justice. It was good because it was ours. I only just keep thinking you deserve more.”

“So you got me an expensive fucking ring?” she blurts out, and her cheeks turn bright red. “Sorry. That thing’s just?—”

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