It was a heavy ring. Heavy enough to cut. Heavy enough to scar. Heavy enough to last.
“We’re here,” Kolya says abruptly, as the Mercedes comes to a stop in front of a gorgeous little cake shop with wooden framed bifold glass doors and potted greenery as far as the eye can see.
Kolya strides past the wicker chairs, beneath the yellow pinstriped awning, and breezes indoors. I wait by the Mercedes until the sedan’s door opens and Geneva flies out looking positively murderous.
“That bastard locked the car so I couldn’t get out or even roll down the windows!” she snaps. “You couldn’t even see me waving at you because of the damn tint.”
I just barely manage to suppress the snort in my throat. “I’m sorry. But if you were a little less antagonistic towards him—”
“It takes two to tango!”
“It’
