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’min 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 stupidenough 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.
