?Oh my God. What the fuck am I wearing?? Sofia muttered under her breath at her reflection in the full length mirror before her.

The seamstress looked up from the hem she was pinning in slack-jawed shock that was mirrored by the designer at her side. Nobody bothered to inform Sophie that it was a wedding dress as the question had an undeniably rhetorical ring to it. If a pin should have dropped from between the seamstress?s lips at that moment there was no denying that every one in the room could have heard it.

Katharine Rhovnik leaned back against the hard back of the bench she was seated on, exhaling heavily as she took in her cousin?s reflection. It wasn?t as if there was anything wrong with the dress. It was gorgeous. Strapless with a corseted bodice, the gown clung to curves that Kat did not even know Sophie had. Embellished Teobrec lace flared out past her hips into a full skirt. Lovely.

But absolutely not the Sofia Rhovnik that Kat knew. Then again the Sofia Rhovnik she knew was more likely to get married in full battledress than a tulle gown.

?Do you not like it, mademoiselle??

The concern on the designer?s face drew Kat to her feet and she broke into the conversation before Sophie could say something to make the situation worse. ?I fear, Madame Martin, that Sofia is just a bit overwhelmed at seeing herself in a wedding gown.?

Madame Martin looked ready to lose her lunch on the floor. Her voice was pained, her tone desperate. ?But this is a couture gown designed specifically for you, Miss Rhovnik. We were already on a short time line since you would not commit to a design. We do not have time to scrap it and start fresh.?

Kat gave a reassuring smile as she ushered Madame Martin and her assistant from the room. ?Perhaps you can give us a moment so that the bride can collect herself.?

When the door was shut behind them, Sophie turned to Kat while frowning down at the layers of fabric she was swathed in. ?I can?t do this, Kat.?

?Of course, you can. You?ll put that dress on -- or perhaps a slightly altered version of that dress -- and will walk down the aisle,? Kat reassured in a firm tone as she stepped forward to examine the lacework.

Sophie?s pale blue eyes settled on Kat imploringly until Kat could not help but lift her much darker gaze to meet the look. It was then that Kat realized the issue was bigger than she had initially thought. This was not just about a dress with too much tulle.

?Seriously. I was Sofia Fucking Rhovnik. I was the heir to one of the biggest and baddest old families. I was a force to be reckoned with and my reputation spoke for itself. What am I now? I?m not Rhovnik anymore. I?m a girl without a last name and now I?m going to be a baroness?? Sophie shook her head firmly, squaring her jaw as she lifted her eyes back to the image in the mirror. ?I?m not sure I can live such a boring life. I?m not the type of woman that can spend the rest of my life being followed around by guards while handing out citizenship awards to elementary school students.?

?Citizenship awards to elementary school students?? Kat repeated with disbelief as she took a step back, allowing the fabric of the dress to slip between her fingers. ?Are you serious? You can?t possibly think that is the type of baroness and wife Alain is expecting you to be. He knows full well who you are and what you bring to the marriage.?

Sophie sunk onto the bench more than likely creating wrinkles in the dress that would panic Madame Martin but Kat felt it an inopportune time to warn her of it. Instead, she watched as Sophie?s shoulders curved inward around her chest, causing her body to slump forward. Several years ago it would shock her to see Sophie having a crisis of heart.

?I know,? Sophie acknowledged with a distant nod. ?I just... I?m not sure I can do this. I?m not sure I can walk down the aisle of some cathedral in a fluffy dress with everyone and their brother watching. We said we were going to keep this small and simple and now every time we turn around there?s another adviser or councilor convincing us to complicate it further or invite more guests.?

With a soft exhale of laughter, Kat dropped down to a seat beside Sophie to lean in and nudge her with a shoulder. ?Sure you can. I?ve seen you do some pretty incredible things. I think you can suck it up and get through one torturous day.?

?Remember when the Blood Tribe of Nuevello captured me in the Desert of Fools and tried to torture me into revealing the secrets of that old box they had stolen? Had they known my fear of white puffy dresses they may have made me break,? Sophie joked lightly, nudging Kat back in kind.

When their laughter died, an easy silence fell. Connecting with Sophie was suddenly easier for Kat. Alain?s impact on her cousin had started the ball rolling but no longer being the heir to the Rhovniks had been the key. Sophie was no longer her employer, no longer her master. They were on more equal footing. Her walls were down and, for the first time, Kat began to see why Yaya had loved Sophie so dearly.

?Grandmother asked me to ask you if you and Alain were exchanging wedding gifts,? Kat said finally, breaking the silence that had left them each to their own thoughts while side-by-side on the bench. ?She said that it?s important to have something you can pass on. Perhaps a custom designed pair of cuff links??

Cuff links. What did a man like Alain need with yet another set of cuff links? Sophie drew the fabric of the dress up and stretched out her feet to admire the one piece of her wedding day attire that she actually was in love with -- a pair of designer heels covered in iridescent blue crystals. ?No. It needs to be something more practical.?

?Cuff links are pretty practical when you think about it,? Kat replied with a flash of a grin.

Sophie rose to her feet slowly, turning back to the mirror as she drew her hands down the fabric of the dress to smooth it out. A thoughtful smile slowly formed across her lips and she cut a glance over her shoulder at Kat. ?What do you think about King Aleik the Great?s ring??

Kat gave a laugh which died as she lifted her gaze to the reflection of Sophie?s eyes in the mirror. Sophie was serious. Her stomach rolled anxiously at the hint of trouble that the look threatened. ?I think it's just a legend,? Kat replied warily.

The smile that was turned on Kat as Sophie twisted to take in her cousin was full of the promise of trouble. ?Sometimes,? she stated slowly, ?history is written off as legends by those who do not wish you to know the truth.?

Claude Vidalon needed a drink. Something stiff and old would take away the dirty feeling that piled up on his conscious over the course of the day as he proceeded from one business meeting to the next. Some would argue that he did not have a conscious. Those that knew him better would instead say that Vidalon did have a conscious. It was just soft-spoken and easily drowned out with alcohol.

Frowning over the quarterly reports of one of his hedge funds, Vidalon picked his way blindly through the hallways of his vast Parisian townhouse towards his study. He reached out as he stepped through the doorway to flip on the light.

?Bonsoir, Monsieur Vidalon.?

The unexpected sound of a woman?s voice startled Vidalon to the core, making his heart leap into his throat. He worried over the state of it for a moment. His doctor often said that he needed dietary changes -- less alcohol, more greens -- to lower his blood pressure. Vidalon had scoffed at the doctor?s orders but he silently promised his heart that if it would make it through this surprise then he would make the change.

His eyes lifted from the paper in hand to the woman seated in his chair behind his desk. There were many a beauty that he would look forward to seeing behind his desk but the brunette behind it was not one of these. With her legs were crossed one over the other and clad in a designer dress, she seemed harmless enough and leaned back in that great chair with a bottle of his 18 year old Auchentoshan scotch before her, she seemed ready for a friendly conversation. However, Vidalon knew Sofia Rhovnik well enough to know that she was never harmless and he was quite sure she was incapable of friendly conversation.

He squared his shoulders, snapping the report in his hand shut. ?Comment allez-vous, Mademoiselle Rhovnik??

With a flicker of a smug smile across her face, she reached out to set her half-empty glass down beside the bottle. So confident was she in her ability to not only beat his top-rated security system coming in but also in escaping that she was now enjoying his liquor. It was a slap to the face that Vidalon could barely stand. ?Bien, et vous??

?Je vais bien,? Vidalon answered curtly. He hated using his beloved French for dirty business. It was better to soil English. It was such a crude language already. ?To what do I owe this pleasure, Sofia??

?I just wanted to let you know that I am planning on stealing the ring of King Aleik the Great from you.?

With a husky laugh and a smooth shake of his head, Vidalon?s tone turned dismissive and nonchalant. ?The ring of King Aleik is a legend, young lady. If someone has told you that I have it, they are... what is it that you say? ...yanking your chain.?

Sophie?s smile brightened into something dangerous as she rose to her feet. A fist that Vidalon had not realized was closed, opened slowly to reveal an ancient gold ring emblazoned with the legendary king?s crest. Held so casually it looked like a mere trinket rather than a priceless artifact created hundreds of years before the birth of Christ and made of gold more than twenty-one carats pure. ?This is the ring which you do not have and which does not exist??

The ring was laid down on the desk between the bottle and the glass. Vidalon followed the motion of her hand until she set down the ring and then his eyes jumped back up to her face once again. He felt the rising tension in his body square his bottom jaw as solidly as his shoulders now felt.

?Clearly you were able to get into my home and break into my safe. Why did you not just take it? Why did you not just walk out the door with it if you wish to take the ring??

Sophie?s lips twisted into a smile as she rounded the desk and headed towards the doorway. The outside of her shoulder brushed against Vidalon?s and her voice dipped to an intimate whisper. ?Because where would the challenge be in that??

Then her presence left, drawing the air out in the room with it and leaving Vidalon to stare unhappily at the ring left on his desk.

In a corner office of RhyDin?s Rhovnik Enterprises building, Chase Rhovnik frowned at the data on the screen of his laptop as a half dozen voices talked over one another in the phone he had wedged between his shoulder and ear. Conference calls were the bane of his existence. He had no idea how much of being the next head of the Rhovnik family would boil down to acting as referee between board members, between his family members, between client nations. Diplomacy had never been his strong suit.

The flash of movement spotted through the glass wall that looked into the hallway beyond caught his attention. His secretary?s jaw dropped at the trio of visitors that were approaching his office. The shock came not from who they were but that they were covered in mud. Pashka was grinning despite the layer of muck caked on his clothing, in his hair, and on his boots while Kicks seemed a bit sullen about the ordeal as he tracked muddy footprints through the building. Sophie was as impassive as always even though her cashmere sweater, designer jeans, and leather boots were most certainly ruined.

Chase couldn?t hear what was being said on the other side of the glass but his secretary?s attempts at blocking or at least delaying their entry seemed to be met with amusement by Sophie. He let out an exhale before interrupting the ongoing debate that continued to rumble on through the phone pressed to his ear. ?I understand all of your concerns. However, I need you to come to a solution. We?ll try this again at the end of the day. Please come to an agreement that you can present to me.?

Without waiting for further argument, he set the phone down in the cradle as Sophie entered with Pashka and Kicks on her heels. The set of muddy footprints followed them. ?Good afternoon, Chase!? Sophie?s tone was bright as Chase squinted at the streak of dried dirt across her forehead.

?What in the hell happened to the three of you??

Kicks crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head slowly. ?We were practicing for a job. Pashka got a little over zealous with the explosives.?

Tension settled into Chase?s shoulders. He would not be pulled into these messes. Not anymore. Yet, he couldn?t help but weigh in. ?Jesus Christ. Why is Pashka allowed within a hundred feet of explosives? The last time he had to blow something up on a job he nearly killed us all.?

?Yes. Well, that?s why we?re here,? Sophie responded in a breezy tone. She was in her element which meant she was up to no good. Chase braced for the worst. ?We need you to help us get King Aleik the Great?s signet ring.?

It was just as bad as Chase had feared. He gave a humorless laugh as he leaned back in his chair. ?By ?get? I assume you mean ?steal?. You want me to leave my brand new pregnant wife to help you steal a legendary ring that supposedly has some sort of unknown, mystical powers against demons??

?Exactly,? Sophie responded, twisting her wrist over to glance at her watch. She had to lift her opposite hand to rub the mud off its face before the time could be read. ?We don?t have much time. We?re working on a limited time table.? There was a sharp edge to her tone. It was a reminder for him not to push the fact that she was skipping out on an entire schedule of fittings and rehearsals and last minute decisions.

Chase pursed his lips determined to refuse her. Caitlin had said she?d forgiven him for not telling her about her new title before they walked down the aisle but there was still a deep, unyielding tension in the air between them. It seemed he spent more time sleeping on the couch in his office than he did his own bed and she took refuge on the Island of Kalao to avoid having to even hear the word ?Killdare?. But he was confident (or perhaps just hopefully desperate) that her anger was spurred by raging pregnancy hormones. ?No way, Soph. Not this time. You take your crazy plans and your ragtag gang of thieves and all this mud and march your asses right on out of my office. I?ve got a marriage to salvage and a family to run in case you?ve forgotten.?

There was a silent pregnant pause as Sophie?s pale eyes studied the hard lines of Chase?s face. Then suddenly a grin swept across her lips as if his face said expression entirely different than did his mouth.

?I knew you wouldn?t be able to resist. We?ll see you in Paris.?