17. Konstantin
17
KONSTANTIN
“You’re bleeding.” Sima passes me a tissue when I close the door behind me.
He’d missed the entire conversation I had with Emily, and he’s discreet enough to not say a single damn word about what he just saw.
I dab the tissue on my cheek, surprised to see the white paper come away with red smudges. “She got me better than I thought.”
“Shallow cut for a knife.”
“It was a key.” At Sima’s lifted brows, I crumple the tissue in my fist. “I found her in that apartment.”
Sima nods. “Well, that answers that question.”
“She was also on the Amalfi Coast when we were there.”
I never mentioned my evening with Emily to Sima. There had been no reason to do so before. But after this?
I keep glancing at the door between us and Emily, almost as if I’m expecting her to appear. If she tries to eavesdrop, it won’t work. The engines are too loud.
“Kostya, what are you going to do with her?”
“I told her that I’m going to marry her.”
He freezes on the spot, his mouth dropping wide. “Did she give you a concussion alongside that cut?”
She’s done plenty of things to my head, but not that.
“This is the cleanest way to handle the problem at hand,” I explain. “Without access to the family inheritance?—”
“You mean the signet ring?”
“Yes,” I say. “Without that in my hand, both myself and the bratva will still be slave to Alla’s wishes. You know as well as I do that there’s a possibility that she insists I swallow my pride and allow Domenico to marry Alisa for the sake of peace.” I shake my head angrily. “As if the Ferrata didn’t just try to fucking kill me.”
“And this is what you’ve decided to make your plan on? A desperate gamble to fool your grandmother?” Sima asks incredulously. “Even for you, Kostya. That’s?—”
“Bold?”
“Not the word I would’ve used.”
“The marriage won’t be real.” I shake my head. “I’ve explained this to Emily that we just need to make it look real. At least, real enough to convince Alla to hand me that damn ring.”
“Do you really believe it could work?” he snorts. “Old as she is, Alla Antonovna is still razor sharp. And there’s just too many things that can go wrong in the meantime.”
“There’s no other choice,” I insist. “I won’t risk letting Domenico hold onto my sister.”
“And what about you?”
I wrinkle my nose. “What about me?”
“Don’t pretend that I didn’t see what the two of you were doing before I interrupted.” Sima tracks his eyes back to the closed door. “If this marriage is as fake as you say it is, how can you make sure that you won’t actually fall in love with her?”
“I’d never.” My laughter has a hollow edge. “She’s just a means to an end. You know I’m incapable of love.”
“That’s not what I saw earlier.”
“Careful, Sima.” All the muscles in my neck tighten up, and my fists follow suit. “You may be my friend, but I am still your pakhan.”
Sima leans backward in the chair in front of me, and folds his hands behind his head on the headrest. I don’t know if he’s smiling or frowning. I think he wants to say more.
He’s never shied away from telling me things I’d rather not hear. It’s why I trust him more than anyone else.
But this time, he doesn’t.
The two of us watches as the plane continues rising until we emerge above the clouds into the endless blue all around us.
“What does she think of your plan?” Sima finally asks after a few more minutes of silence.
“I imagine the same as anyone who’s been forced into a fake marriage to help a man secure his inheritance.” I shrug. “She’ll try to run the moment we arrive back home. Count on that.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Keep two.” I open my hand, staring at the crushed ball of bloody tissue. “There’s a reason she was at that apartment. And there must be a damn good reason someone tried to kill her there.”
“Her?” Sima cocks an eyebrow. “What’s so special about her?”
Everything, I think.
“That’s what I intend to find out,” I say instead. “Have you heard anything from Emilio Lanzzare?”
“Not when we left,” Sima replies. “I’m sure he’ll have some choice words for us once we land. You killed three men in his city, Kostya.”
“Four.” I correct him. “Don’t forget the man that tried to kill Emily. And it’s not just his city. There’s not a single man who can claim all of New York.”
“Anything else?” He reaches for his pocket.
“Don’t play with your lighter up here,” I remind him. “I don’t need the jet blowing up before we arrive.”
Chuckling, he reclines in his seat and puts his feet up in. There’s only that single bedroom suite on the plane.
She’s using it now.
I can’t stop thinking about her in my bed.
Will she sleep with the covers wrapping her tight? What about her clothes? Are those staying on, or is she lying there in just her underwear?
The way she felt under me earlier returns to me like a half-remembered dream. Her soft body was intoxicating. I shift from side to side, trying to get comfortable, but my erection is distracting. Finally, I stand up.
“Let me know when we arrive.”
“Do you want me to put in some earplugs?” Sima raises an eyebrow.
“Fuck you.” I smirk. “I just need to go talk to her.”
Giving one last stare out of the window, I walk over and open the door. Emily has turned away from the door, but I know she’s not asleep. I slip into bed next to her, making sure to keep the thin blanket between us even as my cock hardens at her proximity to me.
She turns to me, and my breath catches in my throat when I gaze into her eyes. Sima is right to warn me.
Falling for her can be terrifyingly easy.
“You were right earlier, Kitty Cat, when you said that I’m using you.” I tell her. “I won’t deny that. You are a means to an end. But know this. Just because I’m using you, doesn’t mean I won’t burn the world down to keep you safe. You may not trust my intentions, but you need to believe that I’m a man of my word. And that I’ll let you go when this is all over.”
“Do you really expect me to believe anything you say after everything that’s happened?”
She stares back at me with those dazzling eyes. And I see the wildness that I once detected churning under their sapphire-blue surface.
“I do.” I nod. “Because both our future depends on it.”
And then, I do something even more foolish. I hook my finger under her chin, and bring her close to my lips.
As I drown my senses in her scent—honeysuckle and brown sugar—and the feel of her soft luscious lips, I wonder …
Can I really let her go when this is over?
Or am I just lying to her and to myself?