“But, my sweet Olivia—”

“Let it go.”

“Fine!” her uncle snapped, walking over to one of the heavy leather king chairs and dropping into it. “Make same mistake as your father . . . see how well it does for you.”

“Well, I’ve already outlived him.”

“Awwww, Livy!” her family admonished.

“I was joking. Joking!”

“Not funny,” her mother muttered from behind her.

“You people just have no sense of humor.”

“Yes. That must be it.”

Livy jerked a bit when she felt her mother’s hand on her back. “How are you feeling?” Joan asked.

Confused, Livy asked, “In what sense?”

Her mother let out an exasperated sigh and marched around until she stood right in front of Livy. “Is it too much to ask for you to give me a straight answer? Just once?”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re asking.”

“You were shot, you little idiot! And now I’m asking how you feel? Better? Worse? Stupider?”

“Don’t yell at me, old woman!”

“Livy.” Vic put his arm around Livy’s shoulder and steered her away from her glowering mother. “I want you to meet my father. Vladik Barinov. Papa, this is Olivia Kowalski.”

“This? This is little Livy? So beautiful!”

Livy held out her hand for a hearty shake, but then she was suddenly swallowed whole, completely smothered in bear as Vic’s father picked her off the ground and hugged her in his giant arms.

“Papa,” Vic said, trying to pry Livy from Vladik’s arms. “Papa. Give her to me.”

“I’m just saying hello.”

“Mama! Papa won’t let Livy go!”

“Such a big baby,” Vladik complained, finally allowing his son to remove Livy from his arms.

Once she was again standing on her own feet, Vic smiled at her and said, “Would you like to meet my mother?”

God, not again.

“She’s in the kitchen, making coffee.”

“I met her. She says I can call her Nova.”

“Oh good.”

“Yes. Very good.” Vladik took Livy’s hand. “Come. We must talk.” He led Livy to one of the many heavy leather chairs and waited while Livy sat down.

“So,” Livy said, looking around at everyone, “who tried to have me killed yesterday?”

Vladik gazed down at her. “It was Rostislav Chumakov.”

Livy thought on that a moment before asking, “The art patron?” She glanced away. “I can’t imagine anyone hating my work that much.”

Vladik looked at his son, and Vic explained, “Livy’s an artphotographer, Papa. She’s not part of the . . . uh . . .” He cleared his throat. “She’s not part of the Kowalski or Yang family businesses.”

“Oh good!” Vladik cheered. “Then I will not have to have you arrested like your cousin in the Balkans.”

Balt was nearly out of his chair, an angry snarl on his lips, when Livy snarled first. “Sit down, Uncle Balt.”

Balt dropped back into his chair, but his glare was locked on Vladik.

“There is something else you need to know about Rostislav Chumakov, sweet Olivia.”

“You mean other than his being a murdering art patron with apparently a low opinion of brilliant photography?”

“He is bear,” Vladik explained.

“Kamchatka grizzly,” Nova added as she walked into the room. She lifted her coffee mug, blowing on it to cool the liquid down. “You must have really pissed him off.”

“Mama,” Vic admonished.

“No, no.” Livy cut in. “She’s right. I must have really pissed him off.” She sighed. “What can I say? It’s a skill I have.”

Livy stood. “I’m hungry,” she announced and walked out of the room.

“Did we upset her?” Vic’s father asked.

“No. She’s probably just hungry.”

“I, too, am hungry,” Balt said and followed Livy. The rest of the Kowalskis and Yangs trailed behind him.

“What a lovely family your Olivia has.”

“Mama.”

His mother snorted. “You always had interesting taste, my handsome son. But this . . .”

“I’m not discussing my love life with you, Mama. Not now. Not ever.”

“If I had listened to my mother, my love,” Vladik said to Semenova, “I would have killed you with a big rock and buried your body by the river near our village. Are you not glad I never listened to her?”

“Your mother was a petty little cu—”

“Semenova.”

Vic’s father didn’t ask much of his wife, but talking about Vladik’s mother was and always would be off-limits. No matter how horrible the woman had been. And God, had that woman been horrible.

“I like her, Mama. I like Livy a lot. But whether you like her or not is not my problem.”

“I like her,” Vladik stated emphatically, causing Nova to roll her eyes. “Not only is she cute, but she can take sixteen bullets to back. Now that is woman!”

Vic looked at his mother. “We need your help, Mama. You and Papa. Will you help us?”

“ ‘We and us’ . . . so soon? My son, some days your bear-ness overwhelms.”

“Mama.”