Page 42 of His to Ruin

“Olivia Rezanova.” It feels odd to say the name, but I love how it sounds. I hold out my hand for him to shake.

“I am Jacques.” He glares at my offered hand until I drop it to my side. “Please follow me.”

I turn to Jimmy and Marko. “You guys can head off now.”

Jimmy nods politely. “Have a great evening, ma’am.” His sudden deference is no doubt a response to the French asshole looking at me like something that was scraped off the sidewalk.

“Thank you, James.” I flash him a grin. “Marko.”

Now that I’m safely delivered, they can head off for the night. Perhaps Marko will take Jimmy out and show him some of the sights of Paris he wouldn’t dare take a Pakhan’s wife to. Jimmy deserves a little fun.

I follow Jacques along a wide corridor. Its cream-painted walls are lined with art. Sev’s clearly a fan of the Impressionists, or perhaps his decorator is. There are several very nice reproductions on display. At least, I hope they’re copies because I’m pretty sure the originals are supposed to be in the Musée d’Orsay.

Jacques opens a door and ushers me into a large room with several large white sofas and a massive fireplace with a marble surround. There’s a magnificent gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room.

“Mrs. Piotr Reznov.” Jacques’ booming announcement is overkill, since there are only two people in the room. I grimace at the way he stripped away my identity, reducing me to the role of Piotr’s wife.

As he backs out of the room, a heavily pregnant woman hauls herself up from a sofa and comes to greet me, surprisingly graceful despite the massive bulge of her belly.

“Ignore that pompous ass.” The pretty brunette smiles broadly as a large, tattooed beast of a man saunters over to join us. “I’m Evie Lenkova and this is Nikolai Morozov.”

“Olivia Rezanova.” I return her smile and admire her bravery in wearing four-inch heels when it looks like she could give birth at any moment.

“I know. I’ve been dying to meet you.” Evie sounds genuinely thrilled. “It’s good to have another Bratva bride to talk to.”

Bratva bride? Ugh. I hope we’re not calling ourselves that.

“You’re Daniil Lenkov’s wife?” I check. My knowledge of the European families isn’t as extensive as I’d like, considering Piotr mingles with them as much as he does with the Americans.

“That’s right, and Niko is Mila’s husband.”

My eyes widen. “You’re Mila Lenkova’s husband?”

“Da.” His broad grin tells me he enjoyed my awestruck reaction. His wife is someone I’ve heard a lot about. Notorious for her exploits, she’s like the monster under the bed for a lot of Mafia men. Whether or not it’s true that she has a habit of slicing the dicks off men who upset her, people believe it and they’re scared to cross her. “You will meet her when their business is concluded.”

“Oh, she’s in the meeting with Piotr?”

“Of course,” Niko says.

“And you’re not?”

Niko shakes his head. “I leave that side of things to my wife.”

Even knowing Mila’s reputation, I’m amazed she’s involved in the business meeting while her husband isn’t. It’s unheard of in our sexist world. Perhaps Piotr’s associates are more enlightened. “Who else is in the meeting?”

“Uh, your cousins,” Evie tells me.

She’s undoubtedly referring to Damiano and Lorenzo. I know they do a lot of business with Piotr. That instantly dispels my hopes that this group is open-minded about women’s capabilities. My cousins are chauvinist pigs.

“Sev Baranov is there,” Evie continues. “Then there’s Joe Dalgleish and Niamh Donnelly.”

I’ve heard that name before. Niamh Donnelly is renowned for her skills at bringing people together and making deals happen. If they’re working with her, perhaps my cousins are only sexist assholes with family.

“Who’s Joe Dalgleish?” He’s the only one of the group I’m not familiar with.

“He’s part of the Dalgleish dynasty.” Evie smiles as she notes my blank expression. “They’re based in Edinburgh and London, but I guess they’re not that well known outside of Europe. Joe’s father was an advisor to the late queen. His oldest brother is tapped to become the next prime minister.”

“Of France?” I realize it’s a stupid question the minute I ask it. Evie mentioned the queen and that the family has homes in both Scotland and England.

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