Chapter Twenty-Eight
The massive ballroom was already filled by the time Keira got downstairs.
She stood just outside the door and allowed herself to take it all in.
The tables were arranged to allow the different guests plenty of space to prevent potential conflicts.
They’d debated whether to do a seated meal, but Keira pushed hard for a buffet style.
She already felt trapped enough by the situation without forcing everyone to stay in their seats.
If they didn’t, then Dmitri and Keira would look like they couldn’t control their own gathering. Better to preemptively make this call.
The centerpieces at the tables were bloodred roses in black vases, and she smiled at the sight. Maybe the color scheme was gothic, but she preferred to call it classic. Hell, maybe it was a little bit of both.
“Moya koroleva.”
She turned to face him and tamped down the reckless urge to throw herself into Dmitri’s arms. Now wasn’t the time to drop the masks they both had in place—not when someone could see them. She merely slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow instead. “Hey.”
“You look ravishing.”
She smoothed her hands down her gray dress.
The slinky fabric covered her from the hollow of her throat to the tops of her knees, but it was fitted enough that she still managed to look sexy and a little edgy.
She loved it. “Thank you.” Dmitri, as always, looked like he’d stepped out of some high-fashion photo shoot.
“Did things go okay with my brother?” she asked.
“Da. We’re as prepared as we can be.”
It was better than she’d hoped for. Aiden could be stubborn, and he wouldn’t be thinking clearly when it came to the Eldridges—not after what they did to Charlie. But those bitches hadn’t made a move yet. Pavel would have warned her if they had.
She glanced over her shoulder to find him at a respectable distance, dressed in a forgettable black suit that didn’t quite manage to hide the bulges of his weapons.
It was a calculated detail—she was sure of it.
Dmitri wasn’t the type to let his men dress in ill-fitting tuxes unless he had a good reason.
Intimidation came in many forms, and this one was both obvious and subtle.
Keira turned back to face the room and straightened her spine. “Then I guess we should stop lurking in the hallway and go meet our guests.”
“If, at any point, you need a break, don’t hesitate to ask. You’re more important to me than any of these people, and I’ll manage the fallout accordingly.”
The fact that he offered at all had her heart taking up residence in her throat. It was considerate, though she’d grit her teeth and bear whatever she had to in order to ensure she didn’t have to take him up on it. Keira had to be able to hold her own, and that started now. “I’ll be okay.”
Still, he didn’t take that first step. “We have a full bar set up.”
“I know.” Keira pressed her lips together, her gaze jumping from one table to the other, and finally landing on the small bar in the back corner.
Her mouth watered, and she had to swallow hard to get herself back under control.
“It’ll be fine. I couldn’t have skipped having alcohol here without broadcasting that it’s an issue for me.
My family might already know that, but yours doesn’t. ”
She’d actually considered skipping it altogether, but she had to be able to trust herself to be in the same room as vodka without drinking.
Keira had no illusions—she was at the very beginning of a long and difficult journey that might never actually be over—but she had to take that first step at some point.
It might as well be on a night when it would serve the purpose of hiding a weakness from friend and foe alike.
“Let’s go before they think we’re scared to face them. ”
He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “Ya lyublyu tebya.”
“I know what that one means.” She grinned. “Ya lyublyu tebya, too.”
His answering smile was worth the hour she’d spent mangling the words this morning using her phone’s translation app.
Learning Russian was high on her list of things to do if they survived the coming conflict with the Eldridges, if only because she wanted to know what filthy shit he was whispering in her ear every time he was inside her. “Let’s do this.”
“Let’s.”
They stepped into the room and headed for the center table, where several Romanov cousins had already set up a space. Keira caught sight of Ivan and a tall, gorgeous blonde who must be his Natasha, as well as a group of men who were obviously their muscle.
On the other side of the room, the O’Malleys held court.
Aiden and Charlie had the table in the corner, along with Olivia and Cillian.
Keira paused to wonder if it was difficult for Olivia to be back in the home Dmitri’s father had confined her to for several months, but it was too late to worry about it now.
At the table farthest from the door were Teague and his wife, Callie Sheridan.
Opposite them sat Carrigan and her husband, James Halloran.
They had all the main players in Boston’s power structure here in a single place. If Alethea Eldridge didn’t try something, she’d be a fool.
She leaned into Dmitri. “Are you sure everyone is safe?” They were in an interior room, so drive-bys were out of the question. The walls were reinforced, anyway, and all the windows boasted bulletproof glass—she’d asked Pavel about it a couple days ago.
“We’ve swept the entire residence several times—two of which were today. Nothing explosive has been smuggled in before the party, and everyone coming in now is scanned on entry for weapons.”
That didn’t cover their mystery traitor, and the tightening around his mouth conveyed his frustration with that.
She squeezed his arm. They were as prepared as they could be.
Part of her almost hoped that nothing would happen tonight and the only thing she’d have to worry about was one of her family members trying to haul her ass back to Boston for her own good.
They wouldn’t get that lucky. She was sure of it. “I guess all we can do is wait, huh?”
“Wait, and deal with our guests.” His gaze flicked around the room, the only sign that he wasn’t comfortable with not being completely in control of the situation. “In order to avoid showing favoritism, we’ll be seated at our table and let them approach.”
Keira snorted. “I’m sure the power balance of acting the king and queen to their petitioners was purely coincidental.”
He gave her a tight smile. “Da.”
“Mm-hmm.”
They’d barely reached the table when Ivan and his woman met them. He looked like he wanted to sweep Dmitri into a bear hug the same way he had the first night she met him, but he restrained himself to a firm handshake. “Dima, you’re looking well. Marriage agrees with you.”
“I should have taken your advice years ago, starry drug.” He turned to the woman and took her hand, brushing her knuckles with a polite kiss. “Natasha, you’re looking particularly beautiful tonight.”
She gave him an arch look and focused on Keira.
“So you’re the woman who turned our Dima’s head.
” Her accent was thicker than both Dmitri and Ivan’s, though he’d told her that Natasha had been in the States since birth, the same as the men.
Her gaze dropped to Keira’s feet and coasted back up to the top of her head.
“You’re very beautiful.” She nodded as if to herself.
“You’ll join us for dinner next week before we depart for Texas. ”
Dmitri cleared his throat. “Natasha—”
She frowned at him. “No, Dima. Do not give me these excuses about how busy you are. You are family, and you’ve married this woman, which makes her family.
You will come to dinner. We will talk.” She aimed that frown at Keira.
“You will wear something more appropriate than the last time my Ivan saw you.”
Her face flamed at the memory of that dress. Keira wasn’t ashamed of it, exactly, but she’d been so furious at Dmitri, she hadn’t bothered to think about the consequences. No, that was a lie. She’d known there would be consequences. She just hadn’t cared at the time.
She cared now.
There was no time to come up with a reply—not that she had one—before they moved away and were replaced by Teague and Callie. Teague held himself tightly, as if doing everything in his power not to take a swing at Dmitri. “Romanov.”
“Teague.” For once, Dmitri left all mocking out of his tone. She appreciated the effort, even if it was totally lost on her middle brother.
He turned to Keira. “I’d congratulate the bride, but that hardly seems appropriate given the groom.” Another glare at her husband.
Thank God for Callie. Teague’s pregnant wife slipped between Teague and Dmitri, giving him her hand the same way a queen would bestow knighthood. “Dmitri, you’re playing a dangerous game.”
“The only kind there is.” He kissed her hand and released her immediately.
She studied him for a long moment. “I see.”
Keira wasn’t sure exactly what her sister-in-law meant, but Callie had always been something of an enigma.
Teague was savvy when he needed to be, but his emotions got the best of him sometimes.
His wife rarely had that problem—except when it came to her family.
They hadn’t brought their daughter Moira tonight, and Keira didn’t blame them.
She moved forward and held out her hand over Callie’s belly. “Do you mind?”
“Of course not.” Callie took her hand and placed it against her baby bump. “Your newest nephew is being rambunctious tonight, so maybe he’ll grace you with a kick.” She lowered her voice and smiled. “Did Aiden tell you that we’re naming him Devlin?”
The baby chose that moment to kick, and Keira’s throat closed. It took her several tries to get a word out. “That’s wonderful.”
Callie didn’t look away from her face. “You seem happy. Perhaps a bit more comfortable in your skin.”