“Ready?” I ask.
She nods, looping her arm through mine. Her hand is ice cold, but her chin is up, shoulders squared. She draws one deep breath, and I push the door open.
Silence hits.
Everyone turns.
Declan steps toward us with Viviana on his arm.
“Took you long enough,” he mutters.
I wink.
“Christian,” a voice says at Autumn’s side. Keeffe extends his hand, and she takes it with a soft, polite smile.
“We’ve met before,” Tiernan adds.
She nods. “I remember. You have a beautiful hotel, and my photos didn’t do it justice.” Her voice trembles only a little. She’s holding on admirably.
“Your photos are incredible,” Christian says, smiling warmly. “Viviana was right. You’re very talented.”
“Stay calm,” Declan murmurs near my shoulder.
But then I see Flanaghan approaching, and every muscle in my body coils.
“Autumn. Nice to finally meet the woman who snatched Brady.” His tone drips venom.
She takes his hand, smiles sweetly, and replies, “Pleasure is all yours.”
Then she turns to Viviana. “Can we get a drink?”
Viviana bites down a laugh. “Absolutely.”
They slip away toward the bar.
It takes Flanaghan a full second to process her jab. His jaw ticks. His eyes flame. Good.
Before he can open that rotten mouth again, Rurik Vostrikov walks in with his wife and siblings. Declan and I go to greet them.
“Welcome,” Declan says, shaking Rurik’s hand.
Mila and Katya give polite nods before moving toward the bar. Autumn greets them with a soft hug, and their faces warm instantly. She does that; people fall into ease around her without trying.
“She’s—” Kian starts, but Declan shoots him a glare sharp enough to kill. I look away so he doesn’t see me fighting a laugh.
Kian is supposed to be the disciplined one, but the second Mila walked in, he hasn’t blinked once.
Motherfucker.
Rurik and Stepan join us; we shake hands and head to the table.
Declan sits at the head, with Rurik to his right and Stepan beside him. I take Declan’s left, with Kian and Connor next. Flanaghan and the Keeffes settle further down.
The women gather at a separate table; it’s safer, quieter, out of earshot from business.
“Are the rooms to your liking?” Declan asks.
Rurik nods and raises his glass. “Perfect,” he says with his thick accent.
