Page 6 of Den of Thieves

“And no, you don’t look pretty. That is too simple of a word. You are breathtakingly stunning when you wear that accessory.”

“The necklace?”

“Your smile.”

“That… was really cheesy.” Karina reached up to feel his forehead with the back of her hand. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I am trying the romance.” Vladimir looked hurt, but she could tell he was bluffing.

“Fine. No more romcoms for an entire month.” It wasn’t like she could enjoy them with his unwanted commentary on the lack of masculinity in Hollywood’s leading men, anyway.

“Now we can watch the action pictures, yes?”

“Don’t push it.”

Vladimir’s deep laughter mixed with hers. “Come, Solynchnka. Many surprises await.”

The luncheon was in full swing by the time they descended the staircase. If she thought there were a lot of roses in the foyer, there were ten times that on the ballroom ceiling alone. The gold décor matched the walls and furniture already in place. Two gold throne-like chairs sat in the middle of a long, ornate table. It rivaled many extravagant wedding receptions she’d attended since moving to Moscow. Their party planner outdid herself this time. She would make sure Vlad tipped her extra.

The who’s who of Russia showed up to wish her well on her special day. The ballroom was packed with politicians, movie stars, pakhans, and socialites. Even the president showed up to pay his respects.

Karina was secretly glad she gave into Aksana’s demands and wore the blush, sparkling strapless gown with the matching kitten heels. The women dressed for a gala and the men wore tuxes even though the party would end well before nightfall.

The Kovalyovs worked the room. Karina loved showing off Aksana’s present. She got many compliments on it. So many that Vladimir vowed to outdo her with his next jewelry purchase. She made him promise to wait until Christmas.

They reached the center of the long table and Vladimir cleared his throat as he pulled out her chair. She expected him to sit next to her, but the DJ handed him a microphone. Vladimir’s loud voice quieted the room, the guests giving him their undivided attention.

“Thank you all for coming out to celebrate my beautiful wife, the mother of our three perfect little angels—who are all away at their cousin’s overnight.” He wiggled his eyebrows and paused for the crowd’s laughter. “Karina, you are the light of my life, my Solynchnka.”

“All of Moscow will agree that I will not be the man I am today without you by my side. Let us raise our glasses to one of the rarest souls on this planet, my queen, Karina Kovalyova.”

She was in full tears by the time Vladimir sat back down.

“Okay, enough surprises for one day. You are going to have my eyes all puffy.” She swatted his arm through her blurred vision.

“Anything for you, moya lyubov’.” My love.He kissed her forehead.

Waiters served fine cuisine made by the best chef in all of Moscow before a tiered birthday cake was rolled out. Luckily, they stopped at ten candles for her to blow out.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kovalyov, mind if we join you?” The president and his wife sat down before either of them could respond.

“No business today, Volkov.” Vladimir draped his arm around Karina’s shoulders. To anyone else, he would look relaxed, but she could feel the tension radiating off of him in waves.

“If wishing your lovely wife a happy birthday is business, then I’m in the wrong one.” Volkov laughed and his wife shifted nervously.

“Don’t forget who put you in that office.” Vladimir warned. He kept his voice low, cognizant of the civilian guests sprinkled around the room. But there was no mistaking his threat.

The president seemed unperturbed as he reached for a fresh flute of champagne from a passing waiter. “See, that’s the thing. You like to remind me how I got here without acknowledging what I did to stay here. I have more friends than I need, Mr. Kovalyov.”

Somehow Vladimir’s voice hardened further. “Say what you came here to say and leave before I lose my patience.”

“Re-elections are coming up soon.”

“And?”

“And I think it is time to reevaluate my stance on organized crime.”

Karina gasped. Konstantin Volkov grew up in the Bratva. He was as much a part of this life as she was. She glared at him and spoke despite Vladimir’s hard squeeze on her shoulder.

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