I was dressed in a black cocktail dress that was simple and elegant. I looked decent in it, but my hair could not be helped. I had a mass of strawberry blonde curls that the humidity was taking delight in torturing. It was like a poodle-gone-wrong hairdo. I really hated the tropics. Give me New York’s blistering cold any day over this repressive humidity.
I was smart enough to make sure I brought my duffle of goods with me tonight. I did not plan to let it out of my sight. Daniil had been watching me anytime I snapped a picture anywhere near his family. The Russian mafia king would have someone try to steal it, but I was already trying to strategize a game plan for that situation. Too bad, nothing was coming to mind on that account.
Deciding to use my previous invite with Artur, I stayed close to him. The individuals here would eventually start talking as more drinks were served and lips became loose. Artur’s amusement was evident when I stuck close to his side, but he let me tag along without complaint. That should have been my first clue that something was not right. However, sadly and stupidly, it was an hour into the party until I realized the asshole was staying away from the four people I wanted to be around.
I sighed, and asked bluntly, “Are you even going to go near them?”
Artur smirked. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”
I crossed my arms. “Either you go over there, or I’ll find a way without you.”
He patted my hair. It instantly sprung back up, and he chuckled. “Natural redhead?”
“It’s strawberry blonde,” I muttered grumpily, swatting his hand away when he went to touch it again like a little kid. “And, yes.”
He grinned but jerked his head toward Grigori, Daniil, and Zoya. “I’ll take you to them.”
I pointed at him. “We’ll stay there for as long as I wish.”
“You’re awfully demanding to someone who’s doing you a favor.”
“You aren’t doing me any favors. You’re just under daddy’s orders.” I smirked when he scowled. “Do you always do what daddy says?” God, I loved being a bitch sometimes.
His face hardened. “Do you want to go over there, or not?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“Then shut up and I’ll take you.” He muttered under his breath, but I did not catch his words as he began herding me. When we arrived, he spoke harshly to Daniil in Russian, and I swear; Grigori chuckled before he stopped himself, staring down at me.
Much like the king land shark was doing.
I waved, ignoring their hostility. “Hello.” I zeroed in on Grigori, and stated softly, just loud enough to be heard over the band that was playing in the corner, “That was amazing what you and Ember did together.” I paused, gauging his reaction. Which was nothing. “The logical choice would have been for her to pick Brent or Cole. You know, not to piss her men off. But she picked you. Why do you think she did that?”
Again, no reaction. Only that cold stare. “Is this on or off the record?”
I paused, really thinking. This piece about their fighting together could be a real beauty; but, in the end, I was after a different fish altogether, so I answered, “Off the record.”
He shrugged. “Because she wanted to win. She knew we could do it together.”
I felt my lips purse. There had to be more to it than that. “Why would she think you would help her win where Brent or Cole couldn’t?”
His own mouth twitched, and almost, dammit, almost his gaze started to crack, but I did not understand what I saw there before it was quickly blanked. “Because we practiced together for years compared to Brent, Cole, and her.”
“Do you still practice together?”
“No.”
“Why?” It was blunt, but an honest question. If they had been training together for years, I did not understand why they would stop now.
He placed a hand on Zoya’s back and shrugged. “She’s busy. I’m busy.”
I decided to continue being blunt, pointing at Zoya. “Are you two an item?”
He froze for only a moment, just long enough for me to notice.
Zoya placed a hand on his chest, saying softly, “We’re old friends, but we have gone on a few dates recently.”
I nodded, and felt a little evil when I saw Ember, Cole, and Brent moving behind them. I pulled out my camera. “I promise not to bother you two again tonight, if you’ll do me a favor.” Most people wanted the press gone and far away from them. This time was not any different by their expressions.
Grigori’s eyebrows rose in curiosity.
I stated, “No one has been able to get a photo of you two kissing. If I can get one, it would make my night.” I shrugged when Grigori’s eyebrows lifted further. “I exposed you for who you really are, so why not keep with the same reporter for this?” I smiled sweetly.
Daniil had started to crowd my personal space, but peculiarly, he moved back as I spoke, letting me have my fun. However, I stayed focused on Grigori, who was looking unwaveringly emotionless.
Zoya shrugged. “Why not? Our first kiss on film. I wouldn’t mind having a copy of it.”
Ah. First kiss. I tried not to grin at that information. Drink up, baby, drink up.
Grigori peered at her, obviously hearing the honesty in her tone, his gaze on hers.
I quickly put the camera up to my eye, making sure to get Ember in the shot behind them. She was staring as Brent and Cole talked to Zane, silently watching as Grigori lowered his head. I immediately started hitting the fast action button, taking a least twenty shots as his lips gently touched hers, kissing her softly. Ember, her face turned whiter than when Grigori had popped her shoulder back into place…but her eyes were like a violent burning furnace she was so enraged.
God, it was a beautiful shot.
Grigori did not take the kiss too far, even when Zoya acted like she wanted to.
I lowered my camera, doing a stellar job of keeping the smirk off my face. “That was perfect. Thank you.” I glanced behind them where Ember was barely keeping it together. “If you’ll excuse me, I see someone else I would like to speak with. Have a nice evening.”
Grigori nodded, and I started maneuvering between him and his father, but I paused, glancing back up, asking, “Out of curiosity, what did the Mayor say to you when you entered the ring with Ember?”
“Off the record?”
“Yes.”
Grigori leaned down, appearing so much like his father I froze as he whispered against my ear, “That if I didn’t take the bastard down, he was going to do it himself.”