The smile left Juliet’s face as soon as Chance turned the corner in the company of those two men, neither of which gave her the warm fuzzies.

Despite the rather whimsical surroundings, Juliet felt like a fly in one of those venus fly traps, dangerously teetering on the edge before it clamped right down on her. The surreal nature of this whole thing fell right in line with just about everything else she’d endured during her time with Chance.

So why wasn’t she scared?

Everything, from what had happened to Chip, to that stupid, pink bear should have sent her running. Yet here she was, right by his side all the way until he had been taken away to meet his grandfather.

She wondered what the man would be like. She had no idea what the Russian mafia—Bratva—was like, so she simply filled in the blanks with what she knew. Don Corleone in the Godfather was replaced with…God, she didn’t even have a filler, just some vague older man with a Russian accent.

“You are completely out of your depth, Juliet,” she whispered to herself.

“hyello,” a smooth, female voice with a rich, thick helping of Russian accent said behind her. She turned around to find one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen in her life smiling down at her. She was wearing a simple white tank top and skin-tight jeans with red high heels. Her hair was dark brown with a copper tint to it. Her eyes were somehow both warmly amused and coolly calculating at the same time.

“You mind?” the woman said, gesturing to the chair beside her.

“Please,” Juliet said, grateful for the distraction, but wary all the same.

“Irina,” the woman said, holding her hand out to shake.

“Juliet,” she responded, immediately wondering if she should have even stated her name. Right now, everything and everyone was suspect.

“Yes,” Irina replied and Juliet wasn’t sure if that was an acknowledgement or a statement that she was already aware of her name.

“Vodka?” Irina asked, then reached her long, lean body over the counter to grab a bottle and two shot glasses before Juliet could answer.

She shrugged, accepting the inevitable. Drinking hard liquor was another thing she was getting used to being around Chance.

“I am model,” Irina said, as though that needed to be explained. Juliet took the offered glass of clear liquid and just smiled, unsure of what to say.

“Tonight ees my turn to cook. Is a schtick. Zee customers love it. A beautiful model cooking for you?” she gave a sultry titter. “Kaalikääryleet. Cabbage rolls. My ex-boyfriend, he vas Finnish.”

Juliet was thoroughly confused. Irina was obviously talking about the restaurant. Was this just small talk or was she getting at something?

“You are vith him, no? The man who disappear in back?” Irina said, nodding her head in the direction Chance had been taken.

Juliet took a good long look at the long legs crossed in front of her. Her eyes came back up to look Irina square in the face. “Yes, I am with him.”

Irina’s mouth twisted in amused appreciation. She gave some sort of half-nod, closing her eyes briefly as though ceding the point. “You are lucky girl.”

“I think we’re both lucky.”

Irina laughed at that, holding up her glass of vodka in salute before downing it. She gave Juliet a sly look as she swallowed. “Everybody talks about him today. Zee grandson of Viktor. Is big upset down in Houston?”

Juliet didn’t respond.

Irina waited, then shrugged and poured herself another shot. “I hear things,” she pronounced it thinks.“These men, they think ve women don’t listen. The perks of being the cook.” She downed this one as well, think squinted on eye in Juliet’s direction. “I do not think your man well get what he wants.”

Juliet was still slowly working her way down her first one, not wanting to leave her mouth free to say anything she shouldn’t. She paused when she heard that.

“How do you know what he wants?” she asked.

Irina raised an eyebrow then gave her a coy smile. “I don’t. But I know Russians. He causes trouble, your man. Talk of war. Is not good.”

Juliet finished her vodka. War? What the hell was Chance getting himself into?

“Another?” Irina said, one eyebrow raised toward Juliet’s empty glass with a knowing smile.

“Please.”