18. Elijah #2
He scowls. “You heard wrong. Now stop wasting your uncle’s time and pick a fight with someone else.”
“And if I’d heard right, you’d have given me a gold star.” He’s forgetting he’s the one who taught me to treat every threat as legitimate.
“You make people nervous.”
Not everyone. Leopold stared at me blankly last night. He might be more fucked up than I am and that’s saying something.
“All right, so the aristocratic fucks aren’t up to anything.” I lean my back against the counter. Dad can pretend to be annoyed, but he knows I don’t go to Dima without credible information.
Dad leans up against the oven on the other side of the kitchen. He crosses his arms, one hand still holding his coffee. “What’s the deal between Russie and Yelena?”
And now we’re at the real heart of his visit.
“I don’t know.” I sip my coffee.
His lips thin. A calm, cool, and collected Lev is dangerous. But he’s riled. “Something happened and I want to know what.”
“Then speak to your wife.” Because I damn well know Max won’t say a thing.
“I’m asking you.”
“It’s not my business.”
“You make everything your business.”
Says the man who barged into my house at seven in the morning.
“I know something happened.” His tone grows harder. “Max refuses to speak to his mother.”
“That sounds like a Max and Yelena problem.” Albert saddles up to me, begging for breakfast.
“I can’t fix it if I don’t know how to help.”
“Maybe you can’t fix it.”
“I know you’ve never been a fan of Yelena, but she’s a good mother to her boys.”
Just not to me, right?
“Despite what she might say, I’m not the one stopping Max and Roma from speaking to her.”
“Roma. . .” Dad trails off and I almost feel sorry for him. Other than Dima, I doubt anyone’s seen the lost expression on his face before.
“Go and spend time with your grandchild.” They say parents completely change once they become grandparents. Sailor is already the apple of Lev’s eye.
He’ll protect her, but not raise her, and that thought gives me hope that she won’t end up as fucked up as the rest of us.
“Elijah.” Dad cocks his head to the side, the fight going out of him. All giants fall eventually. Lev can either keep growing his power or stop messing with his sons’ lives.
“We have a meeting,” I remind him. We Zimin men head to the office even when we don’t want to.
Dad wipes his face blank, nodding.
But he stops midway toward the front door. One hand remains in his pocket, the other scratching Albert’s spoiled head. “What are you going to do about Lennie?”
“I can’t tear her from my soul, Father.” Everyone will just have to get used to the idea of us.
He sighs, disappointed I didn’t understand him. “I meant, how are you going to get back into her good graces?”
He jerks his chin toward my bruised face. I fucking hate it when my father brings up good points.
Smirking, he lets himself out.
I receive one text from Leonora in the afternoon.
Leonora: The party for Isolde’s birthday is tonight. At Fujimori’s.
It takes two more minutes before she grudgingly texts again.
Leonora: If you’d like to come you can meet me there at 8 pm.
Elijah: Come over for dinner and we can go together.
Leonora: I have a lot of books to read.
Leonora: Bring a gift.
Hell if I know what the British triggerman likes, but I show up at eight on the dot with a perfectly wrapped present.
There are few places more important in our world than Fujimori’s. It’s the place of important deals but tonight. . . tonight early 2000s pop music plays. It’s closed to the public and there’s a greenish tinge thanks to the dim lighting.
Decorations hang from the ceiling and I spot Ren standing along the wall.
“Roma would like your red lipstick.”
She rolls her eyes, lifting her beer to her lips, and trying to act unbothered. In some ways I admire it, but the story of Ren and Roma is far from over.
“I think he’d like the heels too,” I add.
“You talk very big for a man currently in the doghouse.” She flicks perfectly styled hair over her shoulder.
“Doghouse?” I lean one shoulder against the wall, scanning the place.
Leonora meets my eyes before turning back to a tiara-wearing Isolde.
“You’re sporting a black eye and came alone.” Ren bites back a smile. “I didn’t get to where I am because I can’t read the room.”
An Avril Lavigne song blasts.
“The Stuarts aren’t moving in,” I say.
She nods, but her eyes never leave her friends. “Doesn’t mean he wasn’t planning to.”
Ren smiles at a passing woman and her shoulders remain relaxed. When the song blasts louder, she talks again. “She was freaked out when I saw her that night. Genuinely scared. The Stuarts might not be a problem, but he is.”
For a second she meets my eyes. We have a common cause, protecting Leonora, and I appreciate her for that.
“He’s more of a weasel than I thought.”
She lifts her brows at my admission but agrees. “Loose cannons are never good for business.”
Leopold’s family must not know what he’s up to, or else they’d put a stop to it. Likewise, no one in town wants to deal with one more criminally insane person.
“But you know, Elijah.” A mask Ren started to wear after Roma appears. She smiles as she says, “You fuck with Lennie and I’ll happily turn into a loose cannon.”