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We walk into the main restaurant, and I’m immediately immersed in the aroma of rosemary, basil, rich tomato, and sweet wine. The glorious combination offers me a small comfort. Until I’m met with all the curious stares from my father’s friends and business partners.

The same people who used to smile at me fondly regard me with a mixture of wary curiosity and thinly veiled judgment. It’s as though I’ve committed some kind of crime. Though I suppose in their eyes, I have. I married outside the fold. Into the Bratva.

Sebastiano leads me to the center of the dining room. There, Lev sits right in the center. I’m thrown temporarily by his appearance. He’s wearing an immaculate charcoal suit, and his presence commands the room.

Roman withdraws, walking over to join the other two guards standing over at the side of the room. Sebastiano leads me the rest of the way toward Lev, who watches me the entire time.

Sebastiano pulls out a chair for me to sit. Lev continues watching me with cool appraisal as I settle. I don’t like the way his eyes roam over me, or the flutter of butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Sebastiano asks, directing the question at Lev.

Lev glances at him. “A bottle of Etna Rosso.”

Sebastiano signals the waiter, who hurries over. “Roberto will be your waiter for the evening.” He passes on Lev’s order, and Roberto heads behind the bar to get the wine.

He returns with a bottle and two glasses, sets them on the table, then uncorks the wine and pours us each a glass.

“Enjoy your meal. As always, I’m available for whatever you need.” Sebastiano dips his head and places a hand over his heart.

“Thank you, Sebastiano,” Lev replies, sounding surprisingly civilized.

I smile at Sebastiano, and he gives me a respectful bow. At least he doesn’t look at me with the same judgment as everyone else.

Roberto hands us each a menu. “I’ll give you a moment to have a look.”

Lev nods. “I’ll call you over in a few minutes.”

Roberto nods and leaves us.

Instead of looking through the menu, Lev stares at me. Since I already know what I want, I don’t bother looking through it, either.

I stare back at him, steeling my spine. Whatever game he’s playing, it’s designed for me, too. I became a participant from the moment I said I do.

Lev grins at me. “Did you miss me, Mrs. Karsavin?”

“No,” I answer as coolly as though I were talking about the weather.

He chuckles. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

I glance around. We’re in the heart of the arena, where everyone can see me sitting with my Russian husband. “Interesting choice of restaurant.” I don’t bother to hide the bite in my tone.

Lev shrugs. “I thought you might like it.”

I shake my head. “No. You didn’t. You didn’t bring me here for my benefit.”

“Can’t I show off my wife?”

“You mean you wanted to be an asshole and show off your power over my father.”

Lev takes a measured sip of wine and nods. “Yeah. That, too.”

I push down the irritation rising within me and force calmness into my mind. The worst thing I can do is show him he’s getting to me. I suppose if nothing else, at least he’s honest. It means I know where I stand.

“How’d the doctor visit go the other day?”

“Fine.”

He grins, his gaze flicking to the arm with the implant.