Our second honeymoon had just begun, even though we hadn’t had our proper walk down the aisle yet. Mila and Nat were invested in making this the best and biggest wedding anyone in our family had ever had, and since Clem seemed to be having fun with it, I let them go wild.
I mean, we were already married, so there was no hurry.
We had barely landed in Tokyo and were on our way to the same villa we’d stayed in before, when Clem snickered at the messages she was catching up with after the long flight.
“Didn’t we agree about no phones?” I asked mildly.
She grinned at me. “It’s from Mila. Apparently, there’s a world record for the biggest cake that she wants to break.”
Showing me the picture of an outrageous and idiotic cake that soared to the ceiling behind a smiling couple, I shook my head. “Great publicity,” I said. “Just what our family needs.”
“She’s only teasing, but what do you think of this one?”
I didn’t look at the next picture Mila had sent her, but caught a glimpse of frothy white icing and pink roses as I took Clem’s phone from her hand. “Is this how you want to spend our first hours back in Tokyo?”
With a smile, she let me tuck her phone back in her bag and leaned against my chest, pointing out the sights through the window. I had told the driver to take a scenic route, but now I wanted to get to the villa as soon as possible. We should have been tired, but being back in the place that was so special to both of us had given us a burst of energy I meant to put to good use.
As soon as we were in the privacy of the walled courtyard, I swept my wife into my arms. “Welcome back, beautiful.”
The moment our lips touched, my phone buzzed angrily from my pocket. I felt Clem smile against my mouth. “Go ahead and check it. I want to get out of these grubby clothes,” she told me, grabbing her carry-on bag and skipping up the steps toward the sliding front door.
“Don’t put any new ones on,” I called, reluctantly pulling out my phone, but smiling at the sound of Clem’s relaxed laughter.
Things had settled down somewhat in LA, but we were considering it a calm before the storm situation instead of resting on our laurels. There hadn’t been any late-night raids I needed to rush out to in almost two weeks, but that didn’t mean anything in the Bratva. In fact, it usually puts us on higher alert.
I wasn’t surprised to see that it was Sofiya calling me. I had spoken to Uncle Konstantin’s daughter only a few days ago to assure her I’d check in on her dad once we arrived. I also told her she shouldn’t worry so much. She knew Kon better than I did. The man got into some unbelievable scrapes, but he was made of steel with a scratch-proof coating.
“We barely landed,” I said, trying not to sound too annoyed. I liked Sofiya. Having grown up with a wild dad, her way of rebelling was being a rules follower. I could relate to my two crazy older brothers. “I haven’t seen him yet, but there’s nothing to—”
“I’m here,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“In Tokyo?” I yelped. Then I heard a tap at the outer door.
Not that I didn’t adore my cousin, but I didn’t want to see anyone but Clem for the next couple of days. Still, I hurriedto open the gate, and the little ball of fire zipped past me, red hair flying. Red today, anyway. It had been blonde the last time I saw her, black with a blue streak before that. Despite only being twenty-one, she had enough responsibilities in Moscow that it was shocking to see her there.
“Are things that bad?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, barely responding to my welcoming hug before pacing. “He refuses to listen to reason, and won’t tell me how deep the shit he’s in is.”
Clem must have heard the new voice, and instead of coming out in one of the slinky negligees I’d seen her packing, she was still wearing her airport clothes. “Everything all right?” she asked, giving me a look.
I sighed. “Probably. Hopefully.” I introduced her to Sofiya, who lost her anxious pallor in her genuine delight to finally meet the woman I’d been raving about to my entire family back in Russia.
A couple of weeks ago, I would have found an excuse to get Sofiya away so Clem didn’t have to hear any gruesome details about life in the Bratva, but she’d shown me she could handle it. Secrets were worse than knowing, so I put on a pot of water for tea and told Sofiya to spit it out and be quick about it.
“This is our honeymoon, after all.”
“Rurik,” Clem admonished, blushing. “If it were up to you, we’d always be on a honeymoon.”
“Damn straight.”
It turned out that Sofiya didn’t want to wait around for me to get to Tokyo, and in the three days since she’d landed, she learned that her father was indeed in some deep shit.
“So not just a married woman with a jealous husband?” Clem said, raising her brow at me.
I remembered the hurriedly thrown-together cover story, which was already bad enough, but not quite on the level of ending up on a Yakuza hit list. And it now seemed like Konstantin had managed to get himself on one.
“Oh, I’m sure there’s one or two of those in the mix too,” Sofiya said, flushing angrily. She adored her father, or she wouldn’t be here, but he tended to raise her blood pressure, too.