He wasn’t wrong. But I’d arranged this. My assistant had bought the store for two hours flat. Two doormen signed NDAs and doubled as security. The manager had relieved the attendants and signed the same document. If she let so much as a whisper leak, I’d bury their little careers six feet under.
The manager backed out of a swinging door with champagne balanced on a silver tray. She turned and froze when she saw us, nearly dropping both flutes. Money signs lit her eyes. She was expecting to sell a top-tier engagement ring. Maybe even from some pretentious lad who just became a celebrity.
Now, vows flashed in her eyes. Aye. The lass was thinking the whole set. Engagement ring. Wedding bands. A wee mansion placed on my woman’s hand.
That was a whole different ball game. One that had been in my heart since the day I met Natasha. She was sweet. Genuine. She got me in a way no one ever had.
Ignoring the manager, I cleared my throat. “From the start, Mookie Betts wroteFNin the dirt before each at bat.”
Montana pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked. “A salute to his grandfather,” he deadpanned.
“I know,” I said. “You think I didn’t? If I write Natasha’s initials on the mound?—”
“You dead.” His laugh came out low, half warning, halfdid you forget what century you live in? “Didn’t I just mention the superfluous stress I’d endure at your funeral? You trying to get popped on Valentine’s Day? And your family …”
While I passed on sharing my childhood with the media, Montana knew my history. The crime. He’d told me about his family too.
“I’m doing it anyway.” I smirked. “After I ask Vassili for his blessing. Not saying I’ll do it on Valentines …”Yup. That was what I was saying. “He’s the kinda guy?—”
“Who breaks your toes, then your legs?—”
“That you gotta have a heart-to-heart with.”
Montana’s accent thickened. “Thenhe removes your heart.” He leaned against the glass counter, shaking his head. Pity and awe in his gaze. “You want another sistah? Say less. I’ll find you a woman don’t come from no Russian Mafia drama.”
I stepped closer to the diamonds, the weight of the choice burning in my chest. “I don’t want another woman.”
My voice dropped, gravel thick in my throat, as I stared past the glitter of rings, straight at the image of Natasha’s face. An image embedded in my mind.
“I want … Natasha Resnova to takemylast name.”
The silence after hit harder than any fastball.
And Montana? For once in his life, Big Country failed to clapback.
11
VASSILI
“You’re wrong for that.”As Zariah sauntered into the gym, the sway of her hips tempted me to bench press more than the three hundred pounds on the barbell. “Lachlan came to visit you. Yourfavoritebaseballer. Yet, you scurry away.”
“I don’t scurry.” Wiping the sweat from my face with a towel, I continued repetitions.
“Natasha has kept her relationship from public view to respect you. However, Lachlan arrives on Valentine’s Eve to discuss an important matter. You know what he wants.”
To die a slow and painful death?
“Is your reluctance tied to a bratva marriage with Edik Mikhailov?”
Air exploded from me in another repetition. “All these questions!Should I hire my own attorney?”
Zariah nudged her chin to the bar. I obeyed, silently struggling. Ten years ago, I’d have replaced the weights, addingfunts. Unstoppable. Like a bear through a Siberian forest. Today? My muscles conspired against me. And did I want to fight?Nyet. A backrub?Da.
“I bet it killed you inside to pinkie promise not to have her followed. You probably saw a two-inch pinkie when Natasha made you do that trust gesture last week.”
Da. She’d had such tiny hands as she cooed. I sat up, gripped the edge of the bench at my sides, knuckles white. “Shto-to ne tak s moyey devochkoy!”
“Something … is… wrong with my little girl?” Zariah translated in a whisper, questioning her Russian. She’d learned the language when Natasha picked it up as a toddler. Her face fell. “Vassili, I doubt Lach played a role in the change. She’s growing up. Hormones fluctuating.”
