Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Win
It takes ten minutes and ten million dollars for me to convince Boris to give up the bank account number Ivan uses to hide his fortune.
With Katarina’s knowledge of her father’s other sensitive information, in less than an hour, I’ve drained the account and placed the money into a different holding account.
The money will be Katarina’s. No one deserves it more than she does. My guess is that she’ll share it with her sister.
But speaking of siblings, I’ve got some business with my brother, Ryker.
I dial his number, listening to it ring several times before he finally picks up. “Win.”
“Ryker.”
“Everything all right?”
Him asking that question both relaxes and worries me. “All right. You?”
He lets out a long breath. “All right. Our brothers are complete fucking pains in the asses.”
“Want to tell me why?” I ask, sitting forward.
“Not really.”
Well, we’re really getting somewhere. And Katarina’s got a point about the minimal use of words being a real annoyance. “What is going on?”
“They called me in for a meeting. They know what I did with Katarina.”
That was quick. Then again, Triston is savvy as hell, and Killian has a nose for trouble. But that’s Ryker’s problem, not mine. “How’s Sasha?”
The pause that stretches over the line has my brows climbing up my forehead. “She’s…uh…so much more than I thought she’d be. It’s complicated.”
“In what way?”
“You know that of all the men in this family that I might confide in, you are the last, don’t you?”
I smile. “Too late.”
I hear his light groan. “You’ve got a point.”
“So. How is she? Katarina is worried.”
Another long pause. “How is Katarina?”
Fuck. We’re getting nowhere and he’s right. I really don’t want to talk about my feelings with my brother either. But one of us has got to start. And I am the oldest, I’m used to leading the way. “Do you think Mother would freak out if I married a Russian?”
Ryker coughs into the line. “Did you just say freak out?”
“Answer the question,” I growl.
“That’s more like my brother. Do I think she’d freak out if you married a Russian? No. Do I think she’d be concerned about Katarina’s lineage? I’m not sure. She knows better than anyone that a pedigree does not make for a good spouse.”
“Katarina was finished. Trained to be a lord’s wife.”
“Really?” Ryker asks. “Why?”
“He wanted her to marry into nobility, of course. Katarina has been nothing but a tool for his own success.”
“Sick fuck,” Ryker spits. “If I get my hands on him, I’ll tear him apart.”
I hear my brother’s fury, it’s an anger I share. “Have you been intimate with Sasha yet?”
“None of your fucking business.”
That makes me smile. If he’s guarding his relations with Sasha, he’s in deep. Men who care don’t share. “I’m only asking, because I’m wondering if she’s covered in scars like Katarina.”
“Katarina is covered in scars?” Ryker quietly asks.
“They’re horrid, Ryker. What he did to her…” And that’s when I realize that I am now fighting more for Katarina than I am for Rebecca. I never told my brothers who killed Rebecca. The guilt over my own part was too much to bear reflected back at me.
But with Katarina, the vendetta is not about my own guilt, it’s about her pain.
“No, Sasha doesn’t have any scars. At least not physically. But all the same…”
“Whatever your plans for Sasha, treat her with care, brother. He tried his best to break them.”
“I know,” he answers, “I will.”
“Now on to the real business, Ivan is here in London.”
“Fuck,” Ryker rumbles. “We’ve got a similar problem. Sver, Ivan’s favorite hitman, is in Vegas.”
I go rigid. Sver is on my list of men to kill. But if Sver isn’t here that leaves Ivan even less protected.
“I’m going to take care of Ivan and then I’ll join you in Vegas.”
“Win. There are four of us here, and one of you there. I think we can handle—”
“All the same, I’ll come.”
Ryker lets out an irritated rumble. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”
“Yes. I’ve been told. Repeatedly.”
My brother coughs into the line. “That might be the closest thing to a joke I’ve heard you deliver in a long time.”
I smile as I lean back in my chair. “I’ve got this sassy little spitfire lobbing them at me constantly. I think she’s rubbing off.”
“Sassy little spitfire is the way to describe her.” I hear him rub a hand down his face. “Sasha is so vulnerable that I worry I’m too rough for her.”
“Katarina worries about her sister too.”
“Why’d she leave her with me, then?” Ryker asks, his voice rough with an emotion I’ve never heard.
“She’s here for the very reason, if you really thought about it, you already know. She wants her own justice and Sasha’s too.”
“She wasn’t running away?”
“No, she’s a soldier, Ryker. She was running toward it. Until she ran into me, that is.”
“And what are you doing?”
“I’m going to fight for her. I can hear it in your voice that you’re about to do the same for Sasha. And together…”
“We’ll win. Keep in touch.”
“Will do, brother.”
I hang up, smiling to myself. Because the pieces are falling into place.
Now, if I can just keep them from falling back apart.