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Page 60 of The Twelfth Card (Lincoln Rhyme 6)

“It means that you get to have a basket with flowers, and before we walk down the aisle, you get to throw the flowers in front of us,” I explain. “Do you like that idea?”

“I think so. Is there cake at a wedding?” Ivy asks, her brows knit together.

“Not at every wedding, but I can promise you there will be cake at mine,” I tell her. “I love cake. Cake is my favorite thing.”

Ivy's eyes widen, and she looks at me in awe. “Mine too.”

“You must be Lydia.” The woman walks over to me and extends a hand. “Pleased to meet you. My name is Harper. I'm Aleksandr's wife and Ivy's mom.” She glances at Viktor. “Your mother is in there with the photographer, and she wants to talk to you about what you want done.”

“She can talk to Lydia about what she wants. You know what I want.”

Harper laughs prettily. “Yes. Lydia on your arm. A wedding ring that you can slide on her finger. And a name change that makes Lydia a Romanov.”

I swallow. She knows, too?

“He's a little possessive,” she says to me. “But you’re going to see really soon that that kind of runs in the family.”

Why does that not surprise me?

“We are so excited to meet you. These guys all have each other, but every time one of them gets married, we get another sister.” She smiles warmly. “And we love Vera.”

It feels strange that they know my sister better than I do.

“She isn’t here, is she?”

Harper shakes her head sadly. “Not yet, but they moved mountains to get her here. She’ll be here tomorrow for sure.”

A lump rises in my throat. “Great. And my mother will be here, too.”

“Yes! We love Zofia, too, of course! Let's go inside.” We walk into the house. It's imposing and majestic, just the way I would imagine Viktor’s family home would be. In another room, I see Mikhail talking to a man with gray hair and a beard. Uniformed staff walk around with trays of appetizers and bottles of champagne. I close my eyes, listening to the strains of music, and take a deep breath.

Viktor comes up behind me. “I told them you’d like that.”

There he goes again, revealing that he knows something about me I never told him. I'm still not sure how I feel about that.

“You must be Lydia.” A woman with elegant silver hair walks into the room. “My name is Ekaterina. I am Viktor’s mother.”

“I’m so pleased to meet you,” I say softly. I am. This woman helped mold Viktor into the man he is today, for better or worse.

“Is Mikhail in the other room?” she asks over her shoulder.

“I’ve heard a lot about Mikhail, too.”

“Yes, let me introduce you.”

She quirks her head at Ivy and Viktor. “Ivy, why do you have your arms around Uncle Viktor’s neck as if you’re trying to strangle him to death? What’s the matter, little one?”

“Aleks was mean to her,” Viktor says soberly. My lips twitch.

“Aleks,” Ekaterina says, turning on her other son.

Aleksandr rolls his eyes.

“He told her that she has to eat good food before she gets dessert,” Viktor says. “Imagine that, telling her she can’t have cake for dinner?”

“So old-fashioned. Never would’ve expected it, Aleksandr.” Ekaterina shakes her head.

“I’ll tell you what,” Viktor says. “If you eat your chicken, you can sit on my lap, and I’ll get you that ketchup you like.”


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