52. -51- #2
“Do you think I would pass up all the opportunities to hurt you or your loved ones if my plan was revenge all along?” I asked eventually, breaking the heavy silence.
“Opportunities?” Dorian echoed, frowning at me.
“I was in the Starlight at the after-party, remember?” I reminded him, my chest tightening with the memory of almost overdosing him.
“I kidnapped you. I was in the hospital, in your house, and at the birthday party two days ago with all your friends, family, and enemies.” I looked at Malin, a smug smirk lifting my mouth. “You missed me everywhere.”
“Did I?” Slowly, he opened the file on the table and picked up the first photo.
“This is you following Dorian in Central Park during his morning run.” My brows furrowed as I stared at myself in an ugly pair of jogging pants I only used once.
“This is from the security camera in the parking lot behind the hospital.” He moved a grainy photo toward me.
My stomach dropped into my shoes. “This,” he threw the next one on top, “is the board in your walk-in closet.”
I blinked at the evidence of my stalkerish tendencies, realizing he knew about me all along. And the funny part was that Zyon and Dorian stared at him, completely dumbstruck.
“You knew she was stalking him?” Zyon asked in disbelief, taking a photo from the stack.
“Since the beginning?” Dorian added incredulously.
“I keep an eye on our enemies,” Malin replied matter-of-factly, handing me the whole file. “Mostly on those who can cause mayhem with a bright smile and innocent face.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment,” I said, smiling and handing the file to Dorian without looking inside. “Considering you didn’t shoot me, I assume you believe I’m not a threat.”
“I believe you’re crazy,” he declared emotionlessly.
“I didn’t know you were a psychiatrist.” I watched his stoic face closely, trying to find any clue of what was happening inside his head. “What else do you think about me? I want the whole report.”
Malin smirked. It was so unexpected and frightening that my heart missed a beat, and chills ran through me. I wasn’t an easily scared person, but my strong facade cracked a little.
“You’re a warrior, Nina,” he said, raising a brow when Dorian moved toward me and placed a protective hand on my thigh.
“Breathe, sunshine. I won’t touch her.” Malin winked at him and turned back to me.
“You’re the most dangerous and most underestimated person in every room you set your foot in.
No one knows who you really are. But it doesn’t apply here.
” He shook his head, crossing his massive arms over his broad chest, looking much bigger than a second ago.
“So tell me, Nina, why would you want to marry someone else instead of just solving the problem with one bullet?”
For the first time that evening, I didn’t have a clever response. The office fell silent. Zyon shifted in his chair. Dorian’s thumb brushed my thigh, waiting.
“You need the Carlile family, which makes them untouchable.” I dug my nails into my palm, keeping my voice and thoughts steady. “So I pretended to agree to marriage while I tried to find someone else to help me escape.” My head turned to Dorian. “My best shot was to invade the house.”
“Clever,” Zyon muttered, casting me an appreciative glance that caught me unprepared. “But you know how to make people disappear or make their deaths look like an accident. Why let Carlile live?”
“Because without him, there was no deal between you and my father,” I snapped, my Italian accent involuntarily slipping into my voice.
I was losing my patience with them. They were forcing me to say things I didn’t want to say.
“You let him live only because you need his connections. Otherwise, our entire family would’ve been gone. ”
“See.” Malin turned to Zyon. “A true mafia heir.”
My brows shot up so high they almost met my hairline.
“Is this some fucked up test?” I yelled, outraged. “Why am I really here?”
My furious glance jumped between Zyon and Malin before it finally landed on Dorian, who immediately raised his hands in surrender.
“I have no idea, Nina,” he claimed sincerely. “I’m just a doctor now. They do things without me.”
I looked at the boss behind the desk, raising a challenging brow.
“So, Mr. Zhumagulov? What is it?”
Zyon tapped his fingers against the polished surface and exchanged a glance with Malin, who nodded almost imperceptibly.
“After Giovanni’s tragic demise,” Zyon started, unlocking the top drawer of his deck with a golden key. My heart clenched, but I pushed the feeling away. “I planned to eliminate Lorenzo, too.”
That didn’t surprise me.
“But.” Zyon opened a thick black file. “Your father visited me with a proposal. Your family’s survival in exchange for Ramzan’s freedom.”
“What?” I whispered, looking at the paper Zyon moved before me, and found the embassy seal stamped across the top page.
Request for Transfer of Incarcerated American Citizen.
Ramzan Zhumagulov’s name stared back at me from the first line. My blood turned cold. The date on the document was six months old.
Fucking six months!
Long before my father forced me to accept Sonny.
Long before our first argument.
What the hell?
“Lorenzo brought it to back up his offer.” Zyon tapped the document. “Three weeks later, Ramzan’s case was moved up.” Deafening silence swallowed the room again. “When he said you’ll marry Sonny Carlile to tie the deal, that’s when I started listening.”
“Jesus.” I collapsed against the armchair. My eyes darted around the room without really seeing anything, while my brain worked overtime to connect the dots.
“It’s not all,” Malin said, and Dorian exhaled exasperatedly.
“What else?” he grumbled, tenderly enclosing his fingers around mine. “Her father already sold her out!”
“Oh, don’t whine about it,” Zyon snapped, glaring at him. “You wanted to deport the entire Valentino family to Antarctica in swimsuits!”
“I still do!” Dorian snarled, squeezing my hand tighter when I tried to pull it free. He abruptly turned to me. “Just not her.”
Despite the anger, frustration, and confusion, I snorted a laugh. It was weirdly adorable that he openly admitted to despising my entire family, but chose to keep me by his side.
“How romantic,” Malin ground out. “Kiss her so we can move on.”
“Just continue,” I sighed, entwining my fingers with Dorian’s. “I need to know everything to see the whole picture.”
“Okay.” Zyon stood up and walked to the alcohol cabinet. “Malin, please, enlighten the situation for the happy couple.”
“It’s not much.” Malin grimaced, sitting in Zyon’s place. “But I went through Giovanni’s bank accounts and found some irregularities.” He spread four papers with money movements before me. “Your grandfather was broke, and from what we know, he borrowed money from some dangerous people.”
“Broke?” I echoed, frowning at the statements. “I inherited sixty million.”
I hadn’t meant to reveal that, but I was shocked and tired. The information just slipped.
“Interesting.” Zyon placed a glass of scotch before me. “That’s exactly how much your family owes to the Carliles. And according to unconfirmed sources, he owed more to other people.”
“What sources?”
I felt like a complete idiot. What the hell did Giovanni do?
“That doesn’t matter, Nina,” Dorian mumbled, and I turned to him, seeing the horrified expression. “You’re not just a guarantee. You’re a payment.”