Chapter 28
As much as I wanted to stay away from Yaroslav’s memorial shit show, I didn’t want one of the other men to have to endure it either. No one deserves that hell.
Which is why I agreed to drop Liliya off and pick her up.
At first, I hadn’t wanted her to go, but as I thought about it, if she did try to escape while in Bratva custody, it’d give me a great reason to murder Aleksy.
Right now, that’s all I need—a reason to end his life.
I don’t bother stepping out of the Range Rover when I arrive. I just shoot Liliya a quick text.
Me: I’m outside.
A few people pass, eyeing me, but I ignore them.
It’s dark, and I flash my headlights when I spot her walking in my direction.
She yanks open the door, drops into the passenger seat, and throws her bag onto the floorboard before slamming the door. Groaning, she rests her head against the window and lets out the longest breath I’ve ever heard.
“Rough day?” I ask.
“You have no fucking idea,” she snaps, massaging her temples.
“Aw, come on. Celebrating your dead Bratva uncle wasn’t fun?”
She scoffs. “No, and someone”—she pauses, lifting her head to glare at me—“took their sweet time picking me up.”
I pretend to check my watch. “My bad. Lost track of time.”
“Your loss of time put me through hell. Aleksy started drinking at noon. I had to endure three slurred speeches. Then, when the alcohol really hit him, he cried to my mother and me, saying he felt we didn’t respect him like we should.
If you’d been another twenty minutes, I’d have drowned myself in the pool. ”
It’s reckless for any boss—I don’t care if it’s Mafia or Bratva—to get shit-faced drunk. Further evidence that someone needs to get rid of him.
I don’t reply to her, only leave the party and head home.
We’re about twenty minutes out when a ringing comes from the glove compartment.
“I’ll get it,” Liliya says. She tugs on the handle, but it’s locked.
She jiggles it, as if it were a vending machine that stole her money.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say as my pulse spikes.
I can feel her glare on me as she says, “You know, it’s really sus to keep a phone hidden from your wife.”
I glance at her sideways. “Sus?”
“Suspicious. Would you like me to read you the definition?”
“In this life, we keep certain things private. It’s only to keep you safe.”
“Still sus.” She taps her lips. “Very, very sus.” She groans, throwing her head back. “I have a husband with a burner. Classic cheater behavior.”
My jaw tics as I tighten my knuckles around the steering wheel.
I don’t bother correcting or arguing with her.
A few minutes later, my phone in the cupholder rings.
Liliya snatches it before I can. “Hannah’s calling,” she announces loudly. “Is Hannah calling both phones?” She’s being sarcastic, but I don’t miss the hurt in her tone either.
I try to grab the phone, but she yanks it out of my reach. She yelps when I pull the car to the edge of the road.
She wouldn’t call both phones unless it was an emergency.
She calls my phone again.
Again. And again.
Each call makes my heart pound faster.
Liliya holds the phone in her lap. I can tell she wants to answer, but she’s also scared to.
Then, it stops ringing.
Seconds later, it pings with a text.
Liliya reads it out loud. “Hannah says, Casserole. Casserole. Fucking casserole.” She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Unless she’s taking our dinner order, that’s code for something.”
I snatch the phone from Liliya and return the call.
It only rings once before she answers, sounding panicked. “It’s time, and I need to get to the hospital!”
I shift the car back into drive and stomp on the pedal. “Did your water break?”
“Did your water break?” Liliya repeats before lowering her voice. “Oh my God, did you knock a woman up?”