Chapter 7 #2
Before picking up the conversation, I have a quiet word with Jake, asking him to let Belle know there’s no imminent danger. Katarina wants to cause a scene, not a war.
“Can I at least go inside?” Katarina purrs as she watches Jake reenter the building. “It’s too damn hot out here. It’s a refuge, and I need shelter.”
“You’re not looking for shade. But you are after something,” I reply. “Or is it someone?”
Her eyes flare but then she smiles. “Maybe.”
I don’t need to ask who. “You’ll need to be searched before we can allow you to enter, and entry is strictly for one,” I say, glancing at her unamused bodyguards.
Katarina’s hips swing from side to side as she approaches on lethally sharp six-inch heels. “Do you want to search me, Ash?” she asks, trailing her fingers along the lapel of my suit jacket.
Before I can swipe her hand away, a new arrival makes his presence known with a long drawn-out wolf-whistle. And as stunning as Maddie and Lily are, I know it’s aimed at Katarina. Mostly because I know the man who’s insane enough to provoke a tigress.
Killian McConkey sidesteps our guards without resistance, and ignores the Russians who slip their hands beneath their jackets, ready to draw fire. He winks at my brothers and their wives, then stops next to Katarina. His head moves with an exaggerated sweep as he looks her up and down.
“How far up do those long legs of yours go, lovely?” he asks in his Irish brogue.
Katarina huffs out a breath. “All the way to my vagina,” she answers. She returns the favor by inspecting him.
Killian is wearing a tailored grey suit with a black button-down, but his mop of brown hair is as unruly as ever. His eyes twinkle and his smile grows when Katarina’s scowl deepens.
“And how far do your stumpy legs reach?” she scoffs. Her smirk is deadly. “Asshole.”
Killian’s chest rumbles with a laugh as he draws closer. “I like you. But these legs are not stumpy.”
“You’re short.”
“I’m six foot one,” he counters. He trails his gaze slowly down her body as if counting the inches. “You?”
“Five eleven in bare feet.” She leaves a beat. “But I’m never without my heels.”
His grin threatens to split his cheeks. “One day I’d like to see you in just your heels, but back to my legs.” He raises a knee and grabs hold of his thigh. “Feel the muscle.”
She looks down her nose at him. “I doubt your muscle reaches that far down your thigh, Mr. McConkey.”
Rory snorts a laugh. “I think you’ve met your match, Killian.”
“You might be right,” he agrees. “Which means I should be the one to conduct the body search.”
One of Katarina’s men steps forward to utter what can only be a threat in Russian. There had been no need for introductions between Killian and Katarina. The McConkeys are trained to know their enemy, and vice versa. It’s time to step in.
“Let’s not start another war between your families, shall we?” I say.
“For goodness sake, I’ll do the search,” Lily says, marching towards us. “I’ve had enough practice checking Mace for hidden devices.”
“True,” Mace says with a smug grin.
Five minutes later, we enter the cool shade of the foyer where the crowd of gawkers from earlier have wisely dispersed.
No heads turn, but there’s no doubt that Katarina is still the center of everyone’s attention.
All except Barrett, who we find hiding behind a pillar at the farthest end of the room with Belle.
“We were just leaving,” Barrett says, gripping Belle’s arm, and making a good impression of not noticing Katarina.
He tries to pass on my left, avoiding Katarina on my right, but Hunter blocks his path.
And Mace blocks Belle. I notice how Belle slips her left hand into her pocket.
I don’t think she owns a dress that doesn’t have pockets.
Or she didn’t. I can’t assume to know her now, or why she’d care enough about my feelings to hide her wedding band.
“How rude,” Katarina says, circling around Barrett so she’s also blocking his retreat. “The least you could do is introduce me to your new wife, Barrett, darling.”
“Oh, Katarina. Hello. I didn’t see you there,” he says.
“You look more…” Her gaze drops to his abdomen and the noticeable beer belly he’s developed in the last year. “Rounder than you did on our Zoom calls. Did you use a filter?”
Katarina, on the other hand, doesn’t appear to have any filters at all, and the situation would be amusing if it wasn’t so serious. I only have to look at Belle to remind myself of that. She’s back to being scared.
“It sounds like you two know each other well,” I say.
“We were about to know each other intimately,” Katarina replies. “But Barrett reneged on our deal.”
I don’t want to ask, but I have to. “And what deal would that be?”
“We were supposed to marry,” she says, tilting her head conspiratorially. “That’s why I came to the US.”
Fuck. Ray Forsyth had told us about Vasili’s desire to marry off his niece, but we’d assumed it was still at the suggestion stage. If there was a deal, it means Barrett’s upset the Russians again. Does he go looking for trouble?
I’ll question why Katarina’s happy to spill her secrets later. For now, I make the most of the information gathering. “Are you saying it was all arranged?”
“Arranged is the precise word I’d use,” she agrees. “I hadn’t even unpacked my suitcase when I discovered he’d sneaked off and married someone else. Most inconvenient.”
It sounds very convenient to me, and I check Belle’s expression.
She looks uncomfortable, but none of this is news to her.
This is what she’d almost told me earlier.
Barrett needed to get someone to marry him so he could avoid marrying into the Bratva.
He’s escaped an arranged marriage with Katarina by opting for one of convenience with Belle.
I go to scratch my beard, but my thumb finds its way to my lips. Of course, I’d choose this moment to touch the ghost of that kiss I’d stolen.
I’m not the only one scrutinizing Belle.
Katarina narrows her eyes at her. “Forgive my manners. I should offer my congratulations to the bride,” she says, stepping closer and tugging Belle’s hand from her pocket.
Her thumb slides over the huge rock on Belle’s third finger.
“This looks very similar to the diamond ring my uncle sent you, Barrett. The one you were supposed to give me.” She tuts at him. “Is this your idea of recycling?”
“I bought that diamond,” Barrett argues.
“At a heavily subsidized rate.”
Belle goes to pull the ring off. “If it’s yours, Katarina, you should take it back. I don’t…” Her eyes snap to me and she closes her mouth tight. She was going to say she didn’t want it.
“Nonsense, you keep it,” Katarina insists. “Call it my wedding gift. You’ve actually done me a favor.”
“Which is?” I ask.
Katarina’s wicked smile is distinctly feline as she draws back towards me, her heels clicking on the tiled floor.
“I’m now in a position to hunt for a new husband, one that my brother can’t pick out for me this time.
” She strokes my lapel again. “Tell me, Ash. Are you feeling left out now that all your brothers are spoken for?”
I’m pretty sure the sniggers I hear are from my brothers. It’s definitely not Belle.
Tempted as I am to set Katarina straight and tell her about my vow never to marry, I hesitate.
I’m just petty enough to want Belle to feel a fraction of the jealousy and hurt I’ve had to endure, and I refuse to feel guilty about it.
She’s been married twice since she walked away, which makes me the fool for denying myself so much as the touch of another woman for six long years.
Katarina makes the most of my hesitation. “No, don’t tell me now,” she says, flattening her hand against my chest, and covering the same spot Belle had rested her palm. “You can take me out to dinner tomorrow night. I’ll send you my address. Pick me up at seven thirty.”
She kisses my cheek and when she’s gone, I find myself fighting a smile.
Setting aside my pettiness, I’m pleased with the outcome.
I’d very much like a private conversation with Katarina.
At the very least, I can find out what she knows about Piper, and if her uncle is planning some sort of retribution against Barrett.
Katarina might be rejoicing in having lost one potential husband and a hefty diamond, but Vasili Barkov won’t take kindly to the slight.
Before I can feel too smug, I catch Barrett’s grin. He’s stupid enough to take Katarina at her word. He thinks he’s been forgiven and all his problems have vanished. The idiot can’t fathom that he’s standing in front of his biggest one.
“Didn’t you have somewhere to go?” I grit out.
Belle tugs at Barrett’s arm, her gaze fixed on her husband. “We should get back to the hotel.”
“Piper,” he says, finding another excuse for my daughter’s name to spill over his lips. “Yes, duty calls.”
I’m fighting the urge to grab him by the throat again when I hear a little girl’s squeal from across the foyer.
“Uncle Ash! It’s me! It’s me!”
I turn to find seven-year-old Becks Corbyn barreling towards me. She might just be the medicine I need right now, and I scoop her up into my achingly empty arms. The hug she gives me breaches the void I hadn’t known I’d been carrying since Belle left with our unborn child.
“You’ve grown big since I saw you last,” I tell her with an exaggerated groan at the weight in my arms.
“And I lost my front teeth. Look,” she says, offering me a toothless grin.
I know we’re being watched, and Barrett will be taking some twisted pleasure of seeing me with my niece when he knows I’ll be longing to hold my daughter too. But fuck him. Becks had a traumatic start to her childhood, and it’s good for my soul to see her thriving.
I examine her pink gums. “I hope the tooth fairy paid top dollar for them.”
“She did. And I bought some paints. And I painted a picture just for you. Mom has it,” she says, then wriggles so she can look over my shoulder. “Mom, where is it?”
“Maddie’s put our things in the office. We’ll get it later,” Jen says, coming up to give me a peck on the cheek.
“Hey, Jen, it’s good to see you.”
“And you–”
Jen stops abruptly the moment she sets eyes on Barrett. “What’s he doing here?”
The look of superiority on Barrett’s face vanishes. He bristles. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
“I was at your first wedding,” she reminds him. “I was married to Hugo Corbyn. Maddie’s brother.”
Barrett lowers his head. “We were just leaving,” he mumbles.
“I’m not surprised you don’t remember me,” Jen continues. “We preferred to keep to the shadows back when my husband was still alive. You know what Hugo was like.”
“I didn’t know him at all,” Barrett says. He goes to step away, but Belle doesn’t move with him. She wants to hear what Jen has to say.
“Oh, you knew him well enough. You knew his type,” Jen continues.
“Men that exploit women do tend to stick together, but thank god that madman stole her from you.” She tips her head towards Hunter, and he bows at the perceived compliment.
She’s not wrong. He was mad, but being led by the heart is a Griffin weakness we’ve all inherited.
Becks rests her head against mine, searching for comfort after the mere mention of her late father. Hugo was a blight on all their lives, and I know Jen would say more if her daughter wasn’t within earshot.
“It must be so annoying to know how well the paper mill’s doing now,” Jen continues. “Don’t you hate it how the Griffins reinvigorate businesses when you’ve made it your life’s ambition to pick over the bones of failing ones like a human vulture?”
“Belle, move,” hisses Barrett. “The crazy bitch is deranged. Just like the rest of her family.”
“Barrett,” I growl. “There’s a child present. Be very careful what you say.”
“Fuck off, Ash!” Barrett says, having to drag Belle away.
When she looks back, her face is ashen. I’m guessing Jen’s recollection of the wedding Hunter sabotaged isn’t the same as the one Barrett described. Yet another thread has been unraveled.
“Thanks, Jen,” I say, tearing my gaze from Belle. “I don’t think you realize what you did there, but that couldn’t have gone better if I’d planned it myself.”
She chuckles. “Oh, Ash. Just because you didn’t plan it, doesn’t mean it wasn’t planned,” she says. “Maddie sent me over. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m glad I could help.”
I squeeze Becks a little tighter. “I’m surrounded by good people.”
“You are good people,” Jen corrects.