Her eyes widen. “Oh. Well, lucky me.” She raises both glasses. “Double the fun.”
My grin spreads. I like her.
Settling into the empty seat that was occupied by Aleksei earlier, she throws a leg over the other side, eyes twinkling. “So, tell me about yourself. What do you do for work?”
Something that could get me killed if you knew the truth.
“I’m Konstantin’s assistant. That’s how we met.”
She lifts a brow. “Interesting…”
“Yeah… For someone who didn’t have a lot of options, I guess I haven’t done so bad.” I swallow hard, tamping down the flood of memories threatening to surface.
“So, life liked to knock you around a bit, huh?”
“Sometimes.” I shrug, feeling Konstantin’s eyes on me. “I didn’t come from much. A shitty mom. No real stability. I did what I had to do.”
She leans back in her chair, eyes sharp. “And look at you now.”
“You should see her with a gun,” Konstantin cuts in, full of pride.
Iseult perks up, her expression lighting with interest. “Really, now? Do tell…”
I shift in my seat, a little uneasy. “Yeah. My older brother taught me.”
Iseult’s lips curve into a sly, dangerous smile. “Well, then I think it’s only right we test your skills with a little shooting contest.”
My eyes widen. “Wait, what?”
Before I can fully process, her gaze flicks to where her siblings have gathered nearby, mischief dancing on her face.
“What’s going on?” Fionn asks, brows raised.
“My wife just challenged Mrs. Marinova to a shooting match,” Gio pipes up, sounding far too amused.
Fionn lets out a bark of laughter. “That sounds like my sister.”
“Come on.” Iseult shrugs. “It’ll be fun.”
Konstantin chuckles beside me. “I say we do it. What’s a wedding without a few bullets between friends?”
Honestly? It does sound fun. And it’s not like this will somehowout me as a fed just because I know how to hold a gun.
“Alright.” I get to my feet. “Let’s do it.”
Iseult throws her hands in the air. “That’s what I’m talking about! Let’s go, people.”
Gio’s eyes trail her body with open admiration. “You with a gun and five-inch heels? Sexiest damn thing every time.”
She elbows him, but there’s affection in the move. “Behave.”
He groans with a smile. “That’s how she says she loves me.”
I laugh. “No judgment here. Whatever works.”
They’re chaotic, a little unhinged, but honestly? Kind of adorable.
Konstantin takes my hand and leads the group to the far edge of his estate, away from the lights, the laughter, and the rest of the wedding guests. With the grass beneath our shoes, we move through the lit-up path. One of his men steps forward on command, lining up empty glass bottles along the fence line. Eight in total—four for me, four for Iseult—set at a distance that’s clearly meant to impress.