Page 4 of Den of Thieves

“Remember, I don’t want anything crazy. Just an intimate lunch or dinner with friends and family,” she cautioned. “What do you get the girl that has everything? Exactly what she tells you.”

Aksana linked their arms, laughing off her concerns. “It is not me you should worry about.”

**

Drilling sounds and yelling jarred Karina awake the next morning. She grabbed her robe before her mad dash down the stairs. She hoped Artym wasn’t up to no good again. They barely saved his finger the last time he got into the maintenance crew’s tool shed.

Her rush to end a potentially bloody situation fizzled when she made it to the foyer.

“Vlad? What is all of this? Where are the kids?”

In less than eight hours, someone transformed her home décor from magazine chic and contemporary to a Kardashian worthy experience waiting to happen.

“Happy Birthday, love of my life.” Vladimir leaned down and kissed her stunned face. “The children are way with Sydney and Jonah for some cousin bonding. They will be back in the morning. What do you think?” He opened his arms to the foyer, that now looked like an indoor garden.

“Are those real roses on the walls? They better not ruin my wallpaper. And where did you get a stone fountain—Ohmygod, is that me?!”

Her mouth fell open at the marble embodiment of herself in a dress that clung to her body like a second skin. The magnificent stonework captured every curve and swell of her femininity. She looked maternal, celestial, and erotic all at the same time.

The carving’s hand reached out, almost as if to stroke someone’s chest. Steams of water shot out from the pool of the fountain to tease her fingertips. But it was the ghost of a smile that took Karina’s breath away. It was as though she was a goddess, waiting for her offerings.

“I think Tony really captured your essence,” Vladimir beamed.

“Tony, as in Villaggio? Vlad, you paid Tony freaking Villaggio to sculpt me into a fountain?!” Karina shrieked.

Karina knew she was yelling, but she couldn’t help it. The Italian sculptor was all she could talk about after seeing one of his pieces last year. She cleared her throat as her vision blurred. “I didn’t think you were listening when I saw one of his works at the Uffizi Gallery.”

“Of course, I listened,” he said too quickly.

Karina raised her eyebrows and Vladimir lamented. “Okay, I forgot the name. But that is what the search engines are for.”

“She has to go outside, though. This is a home, not a museum.”

“Later Solynchnka. There is still much to do to prepare.”

“For what?”

“Tinkerbell!”

“You are already late for your appointment with AK upstairs.”

Karina let herself be shooed away. It was easier to forget, just for a moment, the chaos waiting for them in the real world. Birthdays were a big deal to Karina. She loved to go all out for them. With rumors of a war hanging over their heads, she didn’t think it was appropriate to have a party. Not that she was complaining in the slightest.

“There you are, sister. Aleksei is here to do your face and Natasha is here to fix your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” she gasped, clutching her tresses.

Natasha just installed her sew-in last week. The length was amazing, but the maintenance was much easier than dealing with her own curls.

“Nothing’s wrong with it. We are just doing a wash, dry, and curl before pinning it up.” Natasha shook her head at Aksana before leading her away.

The two women snacked on fruit and mini quiches during the pampering. Karina heard the set-up crew leave and an hour later, limos lined the front drive.

“Who all did you invite?”

“That is none of your concern,” Aksana said, jumping up to close the drapes.

“Oy!” Aleksei snapped.

---