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Stasia looks over her shoulder and waves. “Yes. Fedor is five paces behind us, and Yevgeny is across the street.”
“This is my life now, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Not only are you a soon-to-be billionairess but an avtoriteti’s future wife.”
“I’m not marrying Yuri.”
“Because tying yourself to a man who will give you multiple orgasms is a bad idea?”
“He could be a pump and dump guy.”
Stasia sprays her iced tea across the sidewalk. “Who are you?”
“The same person I was last week.”
“No. You most certainly are not.” She wipes her mouth with the napkin I hand her. “You are standing straighter and looking more people in the eye.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” She throws the napkin in a trashcan. “And I’m here for it.”
“Between Gianna telling me to grab the reins and Yuri’s horrible marriage proclamation, I have no choice.”
“You could’ve curled into a ball, so give yourself some credit.”
“I was going to wait until next week to do that.”
“Probably best since you have to get through the whole wedding thing.”
I stop under a tree. “Do I, though?”
“I kinda think you do.” She takes my hand and tugs me along. “Not that I’m an expert on international criminal behavior.”
“I can’t wrap my mind around any of it yet.” Groaning, I scrub my hand over my face. “I feel like I’m driving bumpers cars in the fog.”
“That’s very specific.”
“It makes sense in my mind.”
“Which is all that matters.”
I follow her into the pet store and study the kittens in the front window. “I wonder if disappearing is totally out of the question.”
“I think you can do whatever you want, but running lasts only for so long. There’s a program that this kid from Stanford created that can identify a face from a background in any photo posted on social media. Privacy doesn’t exist, and I think the best thing you can do is get yourself the biggest dragon around or become one so people leave you alone and respect your majesty.”
“I know you’re right.”
“Good.” She gives me a side hug. “I support whatever you want to do, but will push for the one that keeps you alive.”
“Alive is preferable.” We both pet the kittens, and I notice Fedor scanning the street. “Should we go back to the apartment and play Bratva Tinder?”
“As long as I’m the one doing the swiping.” She slides her hand on her hip. “You’ve been crushing on Yuri for a year and were singing his praises before any of this Tarasov heiress nonsense popped up. Don’t deny yourself a chance at happiness just because he made the worst proposal in the history of proposals.”
“If I allow myself to believe in the fairytale, something will get broken.”
“Maybe your heart will get bruised. But maybe it won’t. Take a chance. What’s the worst thing that could happen? He turns out to be a dud in bed, has the manners of an aggravated turtle, and hogs the remote?”
“Do turtles get annoyed?” We walk out of the pet store and head toward the apartment building. “They seem very chill.”
