"Who died? Was it the baby?" Her worst fear. That a tiny defenseless baby could be dead because of her.
A deep sigh. "No one died, Brat. No one is going to die. It was only Grandfather interfering in my business again."
"Someone is going to die, Nikky. Everyone I meet dies." He would, too, especially as he wasn't taking the threat seriously. He wasn't preparing. "Promise me you'll be careful."
He glanced sharply at her. Her feelings must have shown. "Would you care, Tatyana? If something happened to me?"
"Of course I would." She looked away, at the limo waiting outside the front doors. "I care about all my victims." Too much. "Are we going somewhere?" Her face grew warm as she recalled this morning's limo ride. Would he touch her again? One more time before she killed him.
"You're going somewhere. Back to the boutique." His hand swept down her back, to the folds of her skirt. "You need a different look for tonight, something...older."
Older. She could do older. "Tonight?"
"You'll be meeting the rest of the family." His jaw jutted.
He wasn't happy about that. She wasn't, either. "Is that wise? To expose your entire family to me?" The death toll increased by the minute.
"It's expected, Brat. You'll be fine." He squeezed her hip, not understanding. It wasn't her she worried about. "Have fun shopping." The driver opened the limo door for her.
She stared up at his handsome face, a foreboding hanging over her, the specter of his impending death. Would this be it? Would this bossy, wonderful man be a corpse the next time they met? "Remember your promise, Nikky." She stroked his square chin.
"Which promise, Brat?"
She'd give him an incentive to delay death. "You promised not to die until," she grabbed his shoulder, balancing on tippy toes to whisper into his ear, "you fucked me properly."
Her face on fire, she fled into the limo.
Tonight, once this damn party was done, he'd deliver on a promise, one he'd been thinking about since lunch. Having finished his call, Nik sipped at his ice water, watching the crowd buzz around his fiancee.
"She's a success, Boss," Pavel, his number one man and the closest thing he had for a friend, commented.
"She looks like somebody's grandmother." A big straw hat sat on her head, a long floral dress swept the ground. He wanted older. He got older. The brat.
Tatyana turned, the dress nearly transparent with the light behind her, outlining every curve of her body. Nik hardened in response.
"The sexiest grandmotherȄ" A death glare from him cropped Pavel's inappropriate comment.
She was sexy, even in that ridiculous costume. And she was a success. Nik studied her with pride. Many women would have been intimidated by his family. Not his Tatyana. She was fearless.
There was a respectful lull in the conversation as Grandfather entered. He wasn't alone, pulling out the big guns for this party, a who's who of the family organization trailing in his wake. Let the jockeying for positioning start. Nik cringed, disliking the incessant and insincere groveling. Positions should be earned, taken by the strongest, not begged for. He moved protectively to his fiancee's side.
"Nikky." That damn name.
"Nikky," his cousin Stepan sniggered.
"Yes." The brat leveled an iron pulverizing gaze on that ambitious relative. "I'm the only one allowed to call Nikolay that." Men twice her age collectively gulped. Nik stared, the power in her voice captivating him. "It's a privilege of being Nikky's fiancee." Her eyelids lowered, lashes fluttering on her skin. "One of the many privileges."
She lifted her face up to him, offering those luscious lips.
They were shielded by that awful hat. He removed it, kissed her too briefly for his liking, and murmured into her ear, "Well done, Brat."
She beamed at him. "You like my outfit?" She held out her rose covered skirt.
"No." He could see her white thong through the material. "I don't." He didn't want men staring at his fiancee's ass. A ripple of noise through the group reminded him they weren't alone. Later. They would talk about her clothing in private.
"When is the happy day, Nikolay?" His cousin, Stepan, recovered from the scolding.
That earned him another stern look from Nik's fiancee as she replied, "When I decide it will be." Damn, she had it in for his cousin. Why? Had he dared disrespect her? Nik stepped closer. "Nikky's first priority is and always will be the family, not our wedding."
"Not true." Nik took her hand, raising it to his lips. "You are my first priority, Tatyana." He kissed her knuckles.
"But that's the same thing, isn't it, Nikky?" She tilted her head back, those frizzy curls rearranging on her shoulders. "As I'm part of the family, what you do for the family, you do for me."
A chuckle reverberated behind him. Fuck. He forgot about Grandfather. "Well said, Granddaughter."
"Grandfather." She released a delighted squeal. The brat was a good actress. "No one mentioned you'd be here." She kissed both of his cheeks.
"I wouldn't miss it." There was actual warmth in the old man's voice. "Let's see that ring of yours." He clasped her left hand. "Interesting choice, Nikolay." Grandfather didn't look up, his gray head bent.
He thought it was because of Grandmother, rubies had been her stone. "Tatyana wore red the night we first met." The brat had been covered with blood. That was the reason. It had nothing to do with desiring a love like his grandparents' had.
"Was that why?" Grandfather's voice was tight.
"Isn't it romantic? That Nikky remembers what color I was wearing when we met?" the brat gushed, breaking the tension. "Though I do wear red a lot so it could have been a lucky guess. I don't know why I wear so much red. I don't plan on it. It just happens. I'll be wearing white and then splat, the next I know it, I'm wearing red."
Splat? "Tatyana," Nik cautioned. She should respect the dead.
"I think the ring's beautiful, absolutely beautiful," she finished off.
"That's all that matters, Granddaughter." Grandfather gave Tatyana
