My Russian Beast: Standalone Billionaire Romance (21 page)

T
he arrival
of Seri and the boys were greeted with much fanfare, with reporters clamoring to have their questions heard while photographers jostled against each other for the chance to get the best possible shot of California’s most famous family. And to locals, the Russians and their beloved princess were like gods, with everyone well aware that it was all thanks to the Grachyov billions that their town had been steadily on the rise while neighboring areas had struggled to survive.

Everyone in the party was happy to see them – or at least everyone except for Tanya Darby, a beautiful dark-haired socialite in her early forties. She was also Fyodor’s former wife and mother to his three sons.

Tanya took a long sip of her wine, burning with envy and resentment as she stared at them over the rim of her glass. She should be there with them, dammit. She had every damn right to bask in the spotlight because if not for her, would Fyodor be blessed with three sons? But because of one stupid mistake---

She emptied her glass in one last gulp and angrily waved for the waiter to supply her with another.

Beside her, Mason asked anxiously, “What’s wrong?”

She quickly summoned a smile, saying, “Nothing, darling.” Even though Mason was ten years younger as well as being attractive and head over heels for her, he was also the most boring man she had ever fucked. If not for him being the sole heir to the Henry fortune, Tanya wouldn’t have even given him the time of day.

In front of them, security finally managed to clear the red carpet for the Grachyovs, and Tanya saw her chance to enjoy her own fifteen minutes of fame. “Could you excuse me, darling? I just want to say hi to my sons.”

“
S
he’s coming
,” Sergei said grimly under his breath.

Misha said with unusual sarcasm, “How surprising.”

“This ball just gets shittier every year,” Vassi muttered.

Fyodor shook his head. “Just bear with it like you always do.”

Seri heard everything her boys said but chose to keep quiet, knowing that this wasn’t her fight. No one had ever told her about the reason for the bad blood between Fyodor’s ex-wife and the rest of the Grachyovs, and Seri had never tried to ask.

Some truths could only be offered freely
, Seri thought, or remain forever hidden. It was the way the world worked.

Another photographer approached them, distracting Seri from her thoughts. The man asked for a family shot and Fyodor acquiesced, murmuring with a smile, “It would be our pleasure.”

Seri and her brothers exchanged secret grins. It was a well-known fact that Fyodor hated having his photograph taken…except when he was with his kids.

Everyone turned towards the camera obligingly.

Snap.

“Thank you,” the Grachyov brothers and Seri said automatically in unison afterwards, which had the photographer whistling happily, thinking that his job would be so much easier if all the rich people he had to take photos of were as pleasant as the Grachyovs.

As the photographer walked away, someone called out to them, the voice feminine and cheerful. “Hello, everyone!”

Seri stiffened at the sound, and so did Fyodor and his sons.

But when they turned to face Tanya Darby, everyone was smiling. The radiantly beautiful brunette walked towards them quickly but gracefully, and she headed to her ex-husband first. “You look handsome as always.”

Fyodor murmured something under his breath, and his kiss on Tanya’s cheek was more perfunctory than anything else.

Tanya greeted her sons next, kissing them on the cheeks and gushing about their latest achievements. She was surprisingly well informed, her memory for every little detail remarkable. But when she reached Seri, her brows furrowed, and her tone was vague and facetious as she said, “Sara, right?”

“No, ma’am,” she answered without missing a beat. “It’s Sandara.”

Her brothers coughed while Tanya’s eyes flashed.

Seri maintained her innocent smile. She had long given up befriending the boys’ mother, and Tanya’s anger wasn’t anything new.

Tanya sent Seri a fuming look before sauntering back to Fyodor. Curling an arm around his, she called out gaily to the photographers, “Another photo please, this time of me and my husband.”

“Ex-husband,” Fyodor said evenly, but Tanya pretended not to hear him and instead went on to answer a question shouted by one of the reporters.

“Oh, yes, Fyodor and I are in good terms, have always been,” Tanya answered. “Take the mayor’s foundation for example. There is no way that my ex-husband and I would be able to stay on the same board for over a decade if we’re unable to see eye to eye.”

Beside her, Fyodor remained rigidly silent, and it was only out of respect for his sons that he decided against calling his psychopathic ex out for being a liar.

As the photographers moved away, Tanya snuggled closer to Fyodor. “I’ve missed you,” she breathed throatily.

“Flattering.” Fyodor tried to keep the distaste from his face as a strong whiff of alcohol hit him. “Unfortunately, I’m not interested.” He uncurled his arm from her hold. “Enjoy your evening.”

And just like that, Tanya found herself alone.

She stared at them, Fyodor walking away, his sons following him, and at the center of them all was that undeserving little bitch---

Her intoxicated mind created an imagined slight, and every little thing took on a twisted meaning. Everyone was staring at her, everyone pitied her, and everything was that bitch’s fault!

Tanya shook with rage.

She had never been this humiliated in her entire life.

Never!

Mason reached her side. “Darling, are you alright?”

“Oh, Mason.” She clung to him, for once welcoming his anxious concern over her. Normally, his clingy nature suffocated and annoyed Tanya to no end, but now she found it a balm to her pride. As he sought to comfort her, she was slowly able to regain her composure. She was slowly able to plan, alcohol and sheer dissatisfaction with her life fueling Tanya’s desire for vengeance.

She no longer gave a damn about the consequences. All she wanted was to get back at the bitch as well as Fyodor and her sons.

They deserved to pay for being so damn hard on her, for acting like they were holier than thou, and most of all, they deserved to pay for choosing that stupid shit over her.

First, she plied Mason with wine, knowing that he tended to get overly emotional whenever he was drunk. When his voice started to slur, the dancing had started, and she saw her sons standing at one side, forming a protective circle around their stepsister like she was their most precious treasure.

Her teeth gnashed.
Soon,
she thought, the whole world would know that girl was nothing but garbage.

She stood up, and Mason automatically came to his feet as well.

“Come with me?” She batted her lashes at him.

He grabbed her by the neck and kissed her hard. “Anywhere.”

She fought the urge to wipe his saliva from her lips and instead made herself smile at him as she curled her arm around his.

Mason’s face creased with a scowl when he realized where they were heading, and righteous anger swamped him at the way Tanya smiled at her sons.

These stupid louts didn’t know how lucky they were, being her flesh and blood. If it was up to him, he would have dragged Tanya away and never let her speak to them again.

“Am I interrupting something or can we join you?” It took everything in Tanya not to let her rage get the better of her. All three of her sons had an identical mask of cordial interest on their faces, but she was far from fooled by it. She knew only good manners were keeping them from ignoring her, and the knowledge made her rage fester.

Soon,
she thought viciously,
you’ll regret treating me this way.

When it was obvious that Tanya wasn’t going to leave, Sergei said civilly, “Mother.”

Misha nodded curtly while Vassi simply grunted.

And then her three sons stared at her again, as if silently asking her why she was still there.

Ungrateful bastards,
Tanya thought furiously even as she focused on keeping her smile in place. Had they forgotten that they wouldn’t be alive at all if she hadn’t risked giving birth to them?

Reining her temper in with an effort, she gestured to Mason, saying, “I thought I should introduce you to my partner.”

Mason grunted. “Mason Henry.”

Seri tried not to show her surprise as she observed the way Tanya’s much younger boyfriend acted. He was obviously drunk, but what she hadn’t expected at all was the ill-disguised anger in his gaze as he looked at her brothers.

And the plot thickens,
Seri thought. She tried but failed to think of any possible reason what kind of grudge the other man could hold against her boys. Maybe he was jealous they were a lot cooler than him? Or maybe it was a name thing, and he hated the fact that his name was so uncool he would always remind people about jars?

She quickly refocused on the conversation when she realized that Tanya had finished introducing her boyfriend to her sons, and it was now Seri’s turn.

She opened her mouth to introduce herself but before she could speak, Mason pointedly turned his back on her, asking Tanya, “Since I’ve met everyone, I guess that just leaves your husband…”

Seri snapped her mouth shut, but she was more amused than offended. Was she the teenager here or was it that guy? That was such a childish---

But then she caught sight of her boys’ expressions and knew they didn’t share her amusement. She hastily shook her head at them, mouthing,
It’s fine.
She glared at them for emphasis. It would kill her if they ended up making a scene because of her, especially over something so trivial.

Sergei scowled.

Misha cracked his fists.

Vassi’s arm went around her shoulders, and bending his head, he told her quietly, “Because you asked for it, we’ll let it go. But if the
mudak
does something like again…” He raised his head.

Gulping at the dangerous smile that played on Vassi’s lips, she began praying for said asshole. For his sake, she really hoped that he didn’t do anything to anger the Grachyov brothers.

Unable to help it, she stole a glance at Mason, and something clicked in her mind when she saw the way he was speaking adoringly to Tanya. He was totally enslaved by the woman, so much so that whomever the latter disliked, he held in contempt as well.

That made sense, but…

Did that mean Tanya hated her own sons?

Her stepfather’s sudden arrival interrupted Seri’s thoughts, and when he patted her head in greeting, she smiled up at him.

“Having fun?” he asked, but they both knew what he really wanted to ask was,
Is Tanya giving you trouble?

She gave him a thumbs-up sign. “Absolutely.” That meant,
I can handle myself.

Fyodor turned to his ex-wife. “What’s going on?” His tone was casual but his eyes were narrowed, his mind busy sizing up the situation. Tanya seemed even more drunk now, and so was her date. He glanced sharply at his sons and saw that they, too, had noticed the same thing.

Good,
he thought. He knew Tanya well enough to know that she wouldn’t have approached them for nothing. There was always a motive, a plan, and it would always be for her benefit.

He heard his ex-wife ask her date to look for a photographer, and when the younger man left, Tanya turned to them with a smile. “Can we have a family photo? I hope it’s not too much to ask.”

Before Fyodor could answer, Mason inserted himself between the ex-couple and, puffing his chest, he tried to make himself sound as mature and confident as he said, “I’m Mason Henry, by the way.”

Fyodor shook hands with the younger man and introduced himself.

“Fodor?” Mason asked innocently. “Like the idiot in
Game of Thrones
?”

Fyodor glanced at his sons.
How old was this boy?

His sons started coughing hard, but it was a poor attempt to hide their amusement.

Mason’s face turned red as he realized his plan to shame Tanya’s ex-husband had backfired. Instead of him laughing at them, it was the other way around, the four men making him feel ridiculously childish. His humiliation only worsened when the photographer Tanya requested for arrived, and instead of asking him to join them, Tanya smiled and said, “Excuse us, please?”

He reluctantly stepped back, and Tanya squeezed his arm. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She moved back to Fyodor, but when her sons and Seri inched closer as well, she paused, a dismayed expression on her face.

“What is it, Ms. Darby?” the photographer asked.

Tanya glared at him.

The photographer gulped, and realizing his mistake, he corrected himself quickly, saying, “What’s wrong,
Mrs. Grachyov
?”

A beautifully worried expression crossed the older woman’s face. “I just wanted a family photo as a souvenir of tonight’s ball.”

“I understand, ma’am, you all look picture-perfect so please just---”

But Tanya was shaking her head again.

“Just say what’s wrong.” Fyodor tried not to let his impatience show.

“I want a family photo.” She looked pointedly at Seri. “Could you excuse us as well, darling?”

“Oh. Okay.” Seri would have been able to shrug it off if not for some of the crowd tittering, and the sound made her flush. But before she could step back, Vassi took hold of her arm and pulled her towards him again.

“It’s no bother,
solnishka moya.
You are part of the family.” His voice was light, but his smile was tight.

Behind him, Tanya released a charming laugh, saying, “I’m sorry, Vassi. I guess I didn’t make myself clear. What I mean is, I want a photo of just us.” She paused. “You know, the
real
Grachyovs.”

A muscle started ticking in Vassi’s jaw.

Seri stiffened.

Chyort voz’mi.

It meant ‘
oh shit,’
which was the only way to describe the sudden tension in the air.

She squeezed Vassi’s hand, saying, “It’s okay---”