Page 117 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire

“This is our son, Kostya.”

Odette smiled and reached out her hand. “Nice to meet you. I really love your name.” Kostya sputtered a few Russian words, grinning wide. “Hmm, I’ll teach you French, and you can teach me Russian.”

A round of chuckles followed, and suddenly I knew—not that I’d doubted it—my wife would have no problem fitting in with my family.

Seeing another boy, Ares wiggled out of his mother’s embrace and slid down her body. While the two of them started whispering, Aurora turned to the man at her side. “This is my husband, Alexei.”

Odette smiled and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

This time I stiffened. There was no way she’d know Alexei didn’t touch people. For a few awkward seconds, her hand hung in the air, but it was what happened next that had everyone gasping. Alexei took her hand in his and shook it.

“Dr. Swan, nice to meet you.”

My brother-in-law just became my all-time favorite person on this planet.

“Okay, the eldest brother and his wife. Alessio and Autumn.” I ruffled my nephew’s hair. “And this guy is a future pilot and artist. Kol.”

Odette shook their hands, then bent, resting her left hand on her knee and offering her right one to Kol. “Nice to meet you, Kol. I can’t wait to see your artwork.” My nephew’s eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly. She switched to French and said, “And maybe one day, you can fly me around the world. I bet you’ll be the best pilot ever.” I feared my wife had gotten a new, lifelong fan because my nephew beamed like a hundred-watt light bulb. “You and Kostya are Ares’s age. I think you three will get along nicely.”

The three boys left the adult circle and made their way to look at the trains Ares had lying all around the living room.

It was Royce’s turn and, of course, he wrapped his big bulky frame around her. “Careful, brother,” I warned. “Don’t get any ideas.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. Your wife’s safe with me.” He took a step back and his gaze traveled over her. “It’s too bad you saw him first. I think you and I would be better suited.”

A choked laugh escaped my wife, and I promptly growled. Royce’s easygoing manner always attracted women, and I had never been jealous of it. Until now.

“You’re married to me, so don’t get any ideas,” I warned her.

He waved his hand. “Easily remedied. We can just get rid of him.” He winked at Odette.

“But I like Byron.” Ares’s voice pulled everyone’s attention back to him. “I don’t want to get rid of him.”

Royce watched my son with an untelling expression—his gaze coming to me, then back to my son—before a wide smile spread across my brother’s face. He kneeled down, then extended his hand.

“Ares, right?” My son nodded somberly, his hand pushing into my own. “I think you’re right. We don’t want to get rid of him. I like him too.” He grinned. “He’s my brother, so I like to tease him.”

Hesitantly, he shook my brother’s hand, and my chest beamed so brightly, it just about powered the entire corrupt capital city.

It was time for my father’s introduction, and instantly, Odette’s eyes turned stormy. Her lips thinned, and I swore contempt flashed across her expression.

“And this is my father,” I introduced him. “Senator George Ashford, who wasn’t supposed to be here.”

My displeasure was evident in my voice, although it didn’t deter my father at all. Selfish prick.

To my surprise, Odette didn’t move. She didn’t smile nor extend her hand as she had with Alexei. She didn’t say anything.

She waited. For what, I wasn’t sure, but tension filled the space, and suddenly, I had an uncomfortable feeling.

A whisper in the back of my mind told me my wife had met my father before.

Chapter47

Odette

From the moment Byron proposed his marriage of convenience, I knew we’d eventually cross paths again. Even with Byron’s assurances that he would not bring him around, I knew it was inevitable we’d cross paths with his father.

The senator’s eyes turned cold as he evaluated me, but I refused to move. I wouldn’t be the one to make the first move. As far as I was concerned, Senator Ashford could drop dead, and I wouldn’t move a finger. Hippocratic Oath be damned.