Page 176 of Brutal Vows

I’ve already spotted the problem. “Oh, just a little ticking time bomb over there.”

Nat and Sloane follow the direction Riley and I are looking.

On either side of the opposite end of the room, two pairs of men stand glaring at each other. On one side are Declan and Quinn. On the other are Kage, Nat’s fiancé and head of the U.S. Bratva, and Malek, Riley’s fiancé and head of the Bratva in Moscow.

All four of them have their arms crossed over their chests and expressions of murderous rage on their faces as they stare at each other over everyone’s heads.

Sloane laughs. “Oh, look. The boys are here!”

Nat says crossly, “I knew they wouldn’t stay at the hotel like they agreed to. I think they’ve been following us around every time we go out.”

I say, “Of course they have. They can’t help themselves. All that big-dick energy comes with some serious caveman side effects.”

“Should we intervene?” asks Riley nervously. “I don’t like that look on Mal’s face.”

The look she’s referring to is directed at Quinn, who’s glaring right back at Malek with his teeth bared.

It’s no worse, however, than the look Kage and Declan are sharing, a glower of blistering hatred that could peel the paint right off the walls.

I say, “Don’t worry about them. It’s just saber rattling. They know better than to go at it with the four of us as witnesses.”

Sloane laughs again. “Right? They know what they’d be in for when they got home, the poor bastards.”

“They might be bastards, but poor they’re definitely not,” says Nat, turning to smile at me. “How many carats is that diamond necklace, anyway? Fifty?”

“Close, but no. And look who’s talking. How many carats is that ring?”

“Ten.” Nat beams down at her engagement ring, a huge chunk of ice that must’ve set Kage back millions of dollars. “But he thinks I need something bigger. When he saw Sloane’s ring, he got really mad.”

“Speaking of engagement rings,” Sloane says, elbowing Riley with a smile. “When are you and your giant Russian assassin going to tie the knot?”

“Probably not until after the baby’s born,” Riley says, caressing her stomach. In comparison to the rest of her petite frame, the small bump she’s growing looks big. “Though if it were up to him, it would be tonight. I’m not in such a hurry.”

“Why wait?”

She snorts. “Because gangster weddings are such calm and simple affairs, maybe?”

I smile. “Amen.”

Sloane waves that off and sips her champagne. “Then go to a justice of the peace or something. They do have those in Russia, I presume?”

“Don’t be a snob. Russia isn’t the middle of nowhere.”

“Except that cabin you live in with your man and his pet crow is literally in the middle of nowhere.”

“Pet crow?” I say, interested.

Riley smiles at me. “His name’s Poe.”

“Ah. After Edgar Allan. Very clever.”

“So’s the bird. I swear that thing is smarter than most of the guys Sloane’s dated.”

Nat deadpans, “Wouldn’t be hard.”

“Very funny, assholes,” says Sloane breezily. “I’ll have you know I once dated a Rhodes scholar.”

“‘Once’ being the important word in that sentence,” says Nat, laughing.