“Don’t you dare harm him,” was her imperious command. Anja stood in front of Cole as she faced her grandfather, acting as a shield. But the dumb man just had to talk.
“That’s your grandfather? The renowned Russian mobster? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It never came up.” Because, really, how was that conversation supposed to go? Hi, my name is Anja Helga Tygrov, and I’m a Russian mob princess who is in hiding from my family because if they knew I was alive they’d kill me. Or someone not of the family would try to marry her and become part of the family. The name Sergei came to mind. A previous attempt by another suitor had failed. Antov died during his courtship. A mishap with her grandmother’s cooking. The cops could never prove how the poisoned mushroom ended up in the benign batch her babushka had bought from the grocery store.
“It never came up? That’s bullshit,” Cole hissed at her a moment before they got into the backseat of her grandfather’s limo parked in front of a hydrant at the curb. “Maybe you could have tried, like, ‘Hey, Cole, I’m the granddaughter of the biggest criminal gang in Russia.’ Do you have any idea of how sexy that is? I mean, I am hooking up with fucking royalty.”
“Shoot him,” stated the man whom she’d refused to see since he started contacting her months ago.
“Don’t you dare harm a single hair on his head,” she threatened, narrowing her gaze.
“This common ruffian is not a proper consort for a princess.”
“I’m a farmer.”
“Only because you refuse to take your rightful place here.” The patriarch of the Tygrov family, a family that had abandoned her, glared at her from under bushy white brows. Not much of a change from pictures she’d seen of him when he was younger. The males in the Tygrov line tended toward platinum locks. She knew this from all her online stalking. What they didn’t mention was how hard it would be to contain her curiosity now that she was face-to-face with her grandfather.
“Maybe I would have taken my rightful place if your son hadn’t dumped my mother.”
“He didn’t have a choice. Your father was betrothed to another and chose to honor that promise out of respect for our family name. But had he known of your existence, we would have taken steps.”
“To what? Kill me?”
“Of course not!”
“Then what would you have done?” Her lip curled. “Torn me from my mother? Ripped me from my grandmother?”
“You are a Tygrov. You belong with us.”
“That will never happen. As far as I am concerned, my grandmother is my only family.”
“She can’t protect you.”
“I can.” Cole finally tossed in his two cents. It earned him a dual stare. “What? I am just saying I can.”
“Says the man taken unawares.” Her grandfather sneered.
“Is that what you think?” Cole’s lips pulled into a smile, and he appeared utterly at ease. “Sometimes the spider has to leave the web wide open to trap a fly.”
“And sometimes a lighter sets the strands on fire and they all die.” Two sets of eyes turned on Anja. She shrugged. “I can’t stand spiders, and my grandmother won’t waste money on bug spray.”
“Your grandmother is a meddlesome hag,” grumbled her grandfather. No, he’d not earned that title. He was nobody.
“You’re a kidnapper.”
“It’s not the worst thing I’ve done in my life. Not even close.” The old man couldn’t help a note of pride.
“The worst I ever did involved cheese, a goat, and some pictures. There is still a bounty on my head in Utah because of that stunt. Speaking of stunts, you never did say where you were taking us.”
“I am taking my granddaughter home.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “My home is an ocean away.”
“Only because you were stolen from me. Now be quiet while I speak to the assassin.”
“Why? Are you going to try and hire him to kill me? Afraid to get your hands dirty?”
“I don’t kill family,” growled the senior Tygrov.
“No, you just cast them off when they don’t mesh with your plans.”
“For the last time, it’s not my fault your father chose to abandon your mother.”
“Did you threaten to cut him off from the money tit?” Cole fixed the old man with a stare. “Did Daddy Dear tell the little teat sucker to dump the peasant girl?”
“I didn’t know she was pregnant.”
“And he obviously never loved my mother enough to find out what happened to her.” Anja’s stark observation sat in the air and killed all conversation.
It lasted a fair moment. It resumed eventually with Cole baiting the older man and tossing out impossible antics. If Anja had been less annoyed, she might have enjoyed it more. As it was, the closer the car drew to the airport and the next flight out, the more she tensed.
Why was she nervous? It made no sense. She’d known she’d have to confront the Tygrovs at one point. She couldn’t move forward unless she dealt with her family name. Perhaps she could ditch it. Have herself disowned.
Maybe I can finally have a future. One that didn’t involve hiding—both herself and bodies.
The attempts to see the positive didn’t ease the tension. Neither did the private jet with its luxurious interior. Although her stomach did stop grumbling, as her grandfather had a meal served as soon as the plane left the ground.
“My babulya’s is better,” she confided to Cole as she took a bite of the lox provided with the cold cuts.
“Don’t speak of that old crone,” her grandfather grumbled. “It’s her fault I didn’t know about you for so long.”
“No, it’s your fault for being a stuck-up ass who wouldn’t let my mom and dad marry.”
“And apparently you’ve not learned your lesson.” Cole speared a piece of meat and observed it. “Anja tells me she’s supposed to marry some Russian dude she’s never met. Your doing, I assume?”
“Not entirely. When my son died, without a known heir, it was assumed my brother’s son would succeed me. That changed the day I found out about Anja.”
“And it’s my fault you found me.” She grimaced. “Turns out my babushka had us well hidden. I messed that up when I decided to go on a school trip to London. Babushka said I couldn’t go. I did anyway, except, while they let me into London easily, getting back to U.S. soil proved more difficult. The person I bought the forgery from was using stolen identification. I got pinged and detained.”
“Not detained for long.” Spoken with a harrumph from Tygrov. “By the time my men arrived, you’d vanished again.”
“My babulya pulled some strings. She pulled some for years while reinforcing our home. She told me it was for the day the dead rose. I think she meant you, though.”
“She is a meddlesome old woman who did a finer job than I would have expected keeping you hidden. And yet you left the safety of your home with her to come back here.”
“I didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t safe anymore.” Not for her babushka, who might deny it but who was getting older. Her grandmother deserved some peaceful years.
Her grandfather leaned forward, and Cole finally showed a dark hint of the assassin. “Come no closer.” So softly spoken, yet the threat of it hung in the air.
“You will not threaten me.”
“I don’t threaten. I promise.”
She placed a hand on Cole’s arm. “I’m not afraid of him. Let him speak.”
“When I announced you as my heir to the clan, I never thought things would escalate.”
“Escalate seems a little mild for guys parachuting out of helicopters and blowing up my door. They even attacked us in an airport. I could have been killed.”
“But killing you makes no sense.” Her grandfather frowned as he leaned back in his seat. “Why shoot the main heir to my fortune? It gains my enemies nothing.”
“Thanks for your concern.”
Tygrov’s brows beetled. “Don’t fish for false reassurances and platitudes. It’s unbecoming of a princess. And, keep in mind, your very existence is your safety. In order to gain access to my riches, they must marry you.”
“Do they need her alive?”
“It tends to work better that way,” was her sarcastic retort.
“But what if they decided it didn’t?” Cole prodded. “What if, say, this Sergei fellow decided to kill you and keep you on ice while his goons drum up some stuff to make it look as if you were married. Pluck a few hairs and leave them on pillowcases. Rub some DNA on the toothbrush just in case the cops went looking.”
“You are talking about extreme lengths,” she retorted.
“People will do almost anything to get their hands on the kind of money your granddaddy over there”—he jerked a thumb—“has amassed. Killing a woman who won’t cooperate and then forging shit is nothing to these guys. Staking a claim works best if Sergei or whoever can build a chain of evidence, which includes planting DNA in the obvious places. Show a few doctored images. Hell, if he’s really good, he’ll even have a sex tape.”
“I would never have sex with him.”
“You won’t be able to admit that if you’re dead.” He leaned close to murmur, “And if you do have sex with Sergei, or anyone, for that matter, I will kill them. I don’t share.”
The possessive heat in his eyes shot warmth to the very heart of her.
So, of course, the old man just had to ruin it for her. Just like he’d ruined her life. “Ahem.”
She aimed a hot glare at him.
He didn’t turn into a pile of ash.
Pity.
Her grandfather cleared his throat again. “While your theory is sound, there is one major point you didn’t take into consideration. Even if I die, no husband of hers would inherit my fortune. The assets amassed over the decades are tightly bound to the original family. The fortune, the companies, everything can be passed on only to a direct descendent. A spouse doesn’t count. If she should die, without progeny, the riches revert to the next in line.”
“So who’s next in line?” Cole asked. “The son of your brother that you mentioned before?”
“Not quite. He had an unfortunate incident. My other brother’s daughter’s son—”
“Sounds like the start to a hillbilly skit,” she muttered.
“—is next. But he is an imbecile, by choice, I might add, because of alcohol. Given his addiction issues, I’ve left strict orders to kill him before anyone lets him take over.”
“What if they don’t?” she challenged.
“Don’t talk me into killing him early. My brother would be most displeased with me.”
“Why can’t you just rewrite the way the family fortune is set up? Create a trust for direct descendants so that all of them can share? Share.” Cole snickered as he repeated the word. “What am I saying? Greed is the number one reason for bad mistakes. Like the first time you covet that freshly baked pie and you know if you take the whole thing, it’s going to taste so good.” He rolled his eyes heavenward and moaned as he sucked his finger. He sat up straight. “But if you take it, you’ll get into so much trouble. The people I lived with didn’t spare the rod. Do you know how many times I asked myself, as I stared at that still steaming fruit pie, is it worth the price?
For some reason she wanted to know, were danger and possible pain worth the price of pleasure? “And?”
“I took the pie every single time. And I’ll tell you, it was the best damned pie.”
Except stealing pie only ever got him beaten. Being with her could put him six feet under.