Chapter 20
KATYA
My phone buzzes while I’m in the middle of a yoga session. I’m holed up in the guest room Enzo converted into a gym, thanks to the presence of some painters who arrived an hour ago to undo all my handiwork from yesterday.
Buzz-buzz.
Someone is persistent.
I decide to ignore the phone and continue my Bakasana pose. When I’m balancing, I try to tune out the world around me and forget it exists, hence silencing my ringer. It’s just me, listening to my body.
But now I’m wondering if it’s Enzo texting me.
“So what if it is?” I mutter to myself.
Yesterday’s struggle has bled into today. I’m fighting for footing in this unexpected marriage. The sex is nothing short of mind-blowing. Enzo is a sex god with a magical dick and an even more magical tongue. But the communication between us is practically nonexistent.
I want to be his partner. I want to at least have an idea of where he is and what is going on.
I don’t like the thought of him disappearing on me and returning with a gunshot wound.
My life has already been turned upside down.
I’m looking for safety. Stability, if that’s even possible with a Mafia enforcer as my husband.
Buzz-buzz.
I realize I’m tensed up and that my careful breathing has gone to shit.
Frustrated with myself, I lower my feet to the mat and slowly unfold my body until I’m standing. Then I cross the room and take up the phone. It’s from a number that’s not preprogrammed into my phone, so there’s no contact name. The instant I read the texts, I know who they’re from.
Unknown contact: How is married life treating you, sestrenka?
Unknown contact: I need to see you.
Unknown contact: Don’t think you can ignore me. I know where to find you, in Andriani’s lair.
It’s Misha. It has to be. Dmitri isn’t so demanding, and there’s a subtle warning in the words, the reminder that he can get to me. That he can get to Svetlana.
I don’t know how he got my new number, but then, nothing he has the capability to do will ever surprise me.
I stare down at the phone, my chest tightening. I didn’t really think that I had escaped my brother’s wrath or his ability to hurt me, but I’m also not ready for him to reemerge. I decide to play dumb and prolong the conversation, to see if I can find out what he wants indirectly.
Katya: Who is this?
Unknown contact: You don’t know? My turn for a question.
A picture comes through then. I recognize Svetlana instantly, even though her back is turned to whoever snapped it and she’s at a fairly decent distance.
She’s walking on the sidewalk outside her modest house in the suburbs with a reusable grocery bag slung over her shoulder. A return trip from the store, likely.
An icy knot of dread forms in my stomach.
Unknown contact: Recognize her?
He’s got someone watching Svetlana’s house. It’s a reminder that he’s willing to do anything to get what he wants. That he’ll always have this power over me.
Katya: When do you want to meet and where?
Three dots appear, and then his response flashes on my phone.
Unknown contact: My place. Now.
Unknown contact: No Andrianis.
The sinking feeling inside me intensifies. I have no choice. I head out of the home gym and go to find Antonio.
Scorpion
I’m in my office at the club when Gio warns me via text that a storm is incoming. He’s used to allowing Chiara free rein here, and everything that went down with Katya happened so quickly that I didn’t even think about having Chiara removed from the list of preapproved visitors.
I tap out a response that moving forward, Chiara needs to request permission to see me, just like everyone else. The two of us are done. We were long before Katya came into the picture, but now that I’m married, I’m not interested in the whole friends-with-benefits arrangement.
I have all the benefits I need waiting for me in the form of a fiery Russian ballerina who painted my bedroom Flamingo’s Asshole Pink.
Fortunately, Antonio reassured me that the painters I arranged to correct her redecoration have arrived and are busy repairing the damage.
He’s also been instructed to do his best to keep my wife from taking on any more home improvement projects.
A new text lights up my screen.
Antonio: Mrs. Andriani has requested to visit her brother.
I’ve been firm on being apprised of her whereabouts.
Not just because of the painting incident, but because I need to make sure she’s safe.
I also have the nagging feeling that I’m not one hundred percent sure we can trust her.
She is Mikhail Sidorov’s sister. And while I don’t think there’s any love lost between the two of them, I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to try to use Katya to get to me.
I don’t like that she’s wanting to visit her brother either.
But I’m not going to keep her on lockdown. Like it or not, Sidorov is her blood. If she wants to see him, I’ll let her.
For now.
Scorpion: Stay close and keep me in the loop. Take two guards with you.
Antonio: Will do, boss.
I’m about to text more, my gut tangled up in a knot at the thought of Katya entering that bastard’s web, when the door to my office bursts open and Chiara sails through.
She’s wearing a red dress that’s like a second skin, and her lips and long nails match.
Her blonde hair is loose down her back, her tits are practically falling out, and the scent of her perfume hits me before she even says a word.
Her heels are leopard print. She clips into my office, a black Gucci bag hanging off one arm and a takeout bag hanging off the other.
She holds up the takeout bag. “I brought you lunch from your favorite place.”
I see through her in a heartbeat.
“Trattoria Romano is not my favorite place, and it’s three o’clock in the afternoon.” I lean back in my chair and stretch my legs under the desk, crossing them at the ankles. “What do you want, Chiara?”
“I wanted to see you, baby.” She stops at my desk, depositing the takeout on it, and sits in one of my office chairs, uninvited. “Do I need to have a reason?”
The scent of food mingles with her perfume.
I worked through lunch, and I’m tempted to accept her offering, but I also know I can’t.
I need to let her down gently. Chiara isn’t an easy woman to say no to.
She’s also got a track record of slashing tires and breaking shit with past exes.
I’d like to think she’s not stupid enough to try any of that with me, but I also don’t need more drama in my life.
A surprise wife and a Pakhan who’s got it out for us is enough.
“With you, there’s always a reason,” I tell her honestly. “So what is it?”
“I miss you, that’s all.” She runs a finger over the diamond necklace at her throat, one I bought for her at her request.
She picked it out; I told Antonio to buy and deliver it. If she misses anything, it’s her access to my credit cards. Like me, Chiara’s not the sort to form emotional attachments. That’s what I liked about her the most.
“I’m married now.”
“Who cares about that? We both know you did what you had to do for the good of the family.”
“I care about it.” It shocks me to realize how much I care and how much it annoys the fuck out of me for Chiara to be here, let alone discussing Katya like she’s a minor inconvenience.
A new text flashes on my screen, distracting me.
Antonio: Headed to Sidorov’s penthouse.
Cazzo. I really don’t want to have Katya so firmly in enemy territory, even if it is her brother’s place she’s going to.
Scorpion: Keep me posted.
“What’s so interesting on your phone?” Chiara pouts. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks. If you don’t soon come visit me, I’ll have to find another man who can give me what I need. Is that what you want, baby?”
I don’t share. She knows it. I was clear on one thing—while we’re together, there’s no one else. When I shrug indifferently, she understands what I’m telling her.
“Do what you need to do.”
Shock registers on her pretty face. “That’s what you really want, me to find someone else?”
I gesture between us. “This was always temporary. It was convenient for us both. Now it’s not. I’m sure you have a new man lined up already. You have my permission to move on to him. It’ll be better for everyone.”
“You selfish bastard. I can’t believe that after everything I’ve given you, you can just dismiss me like I’m nothing!”
She’s shouting by the time she finishes.
It’s hurting my fucking head. This is what I was trying to avoid by staying calm.
“Don’t push me,” I warn her. “You knew what you were getting into with me. I have rules for a reason.”
The rules are always clear. I don’t do emotions. I don’t do forever. If you hop into my bed looking for a diamond ring, you’re in the wrong fucking bed. Or at least you were until I had no choice but to marry.
“I thought you loved me.” Chiara grabs the bag of takeout and flings it across the room.
Pasta alla carbonara flies all over the walls. My patience explodes.
With a curse, I zoom out of my chair and around the desk, grabbing Chiara as gently as possible and hauling her to her feet. “Get the fuck out of my office.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you hear what I have to say to you,” she snaps, trying to claw my face with her razor-sharp talons.
I swat her hand away, but not before she scratches me. “Get out before I throw you the fuck out.”
“You think that little Russian waif will keep you happy?” she demands, putting up a struggle as I start hauling her to the door. “She probably doesn’t even know how to suck a cock. She’ll definitely never let you tie her up. She’ll never make you come like I can.”
“If you ever say a goddamn word about her again, I’ll kill you. Do you understand me?”
I kick open the door and pull a kicking, scratching Chiara over the threshold, but none of my men are anywhere to be seen. Where the hell is Gio when I need him? I should have texted him, but I was too pissed after Chiara threw pasta all over my walls to think straight.
She scratches my cheek again. “Bastard! Lying pig! Fucking asshole!”