Page 63 of The Russian's Bought Bride

Of course, he agrees to see me at a lounge instead of somewhere discreet. Artem has always liked spectacles too much, even for someone as serious as him.

Still, I agree and make sure to end the call before he can ask more questions. This is something best discussed in person.

When I head downstairs afterward, I find Danielle curled into one corner of the couch with a book open in her lap. She isn’t really reading it, given how her eyes stay fixed on the same page for too long.

She’s still restless and trying too hard to look settled, which bothers me more than I admit aloud. As much as it would be easier to keep her here and to ignore her wishes to live normally again, I know she needs more than this. She needs something of her own, and one way or another, I want to give it to her.

Dani looks up when she hears me approach, cautious curiosity meeting my gaze.

“I’m heading out,” I tell her simply. “And you’re coming with me.”

Her brows lift immediately. “Is this a new kind of kidnapping?”

Despite myself, my mouth twitches, appreciating her lighter tone. “Something like that.”

Suspicion wars briefly with interest in her expression, and given how long she’s been cooped up here, I imagine getting out appeals to her, regardless of what the reason might be. “Where are we going?”

“To meet family.”

That gets a much stronger reaction as her brows pinch together lightly. “Family?”

“You’ll survive. It’s just one of my cousins.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” she mumbles, looking more hesitant now, likely wondering what this might entail.

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

She narrows her eyes at me, but there’s less bite behind it than there used to be, and that alone feels like progress.

Truthfully, I’m bringing her because I know she needs time away from the house before she completely loses her mind inside. She’s been trying to hold herself together ever since the other night, but her grief has only had time to fester.

And selfishly, I also want her near me, where I can keep an eye on her.

An hour later, after giving Dani time to get ready, we arrive at the chosen lounge on the Strip, which happens to be one we own. The place hums with low conversation, jazz music, and the muted glow of soft lighting reflecting off the dark walls.

Danielle slows slightly as we enter to take everything in.

She looks beautiful tonight, despite not being overly dressed up.

Still, the dark jeans, boots, and fitted black top beneath her jacket catch attention anyway. Maybe because she still looks slightly out of place among people who belong to this world,or maybe because I notice everything about her now, whether I want to or not.

Artem spots us almost immediately from the mezzanine near the back, and he rises with the easy confidence I’ve always envied a little.

He’s taller than me by an inch, broad-shouldered, and dressed in all black with his sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, showing off the expanse of tattoos he has earned throughout the years. He looks like a wealthy entrepreneur capable of ordering executions before breakfast, which he has definitely done before.

“If this is about borrowing money,” he says immediately, taking my hand with his before clapping the other against my shoulder, “you’re out of luck.”

“Says the one who comes to Roman with a new business idea every month,” I muse, used to his antics by now as I return the gesture. “Good to hear your personality has survived this place.”

“Barely. What do you need?” He says more seriously, though the warmer gleam in his brown eyes still lingers.

For as brutal and ruthless as he can be at times, Artem has always had a soft spot for family, immediate or not.

“A favor or two. Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.”

Artem grins faintly at that. “Then we’ll talk shop.”

Beside him sits his younger sister Vera, who lit up the second she saw me and has been impatiently waiting her turn.