“Which is why we’re bombing Sidorov’s new club to return the favor.”
“I gave her a new phone,” I explain. “I took her old one and ran her texts through software to analyze her conversations. From what I’ve been able to tell, she’s not close with either of her brothers.”
“So why the rush to Sidorov today?” Saint prods.
“I’ll check her texts now if it helps.”
I sigh, and then I thumb through my phone, pulling up the log of her texts that I told myself I wouldn’t access. It’s a breach of privacy, and I’ve been avoiding it ever since I found out she was headed to Sidorov, but I need to put the family first. That’s where my loyalty ultimately lies, not with a woman I’ve been married to for only a handful of days, after knowing her for barely any time before that.
Even so, I can’t quite tamp down the stab of guilt as I scroll through her texts from an unknown number. “Looks like he demanded a meeting.” I scroll some more and see an unassuming picture of an older woman carrying her groceries into an average-looking suburban rancher on a tree-lined street.
Unknown contact: Recognize her?
Katya: When do you want to meet and where?
Cazzo, I don’t like this.
Then I see the demand for her to meet him at his penthouse, along with his order that she not bring any Andrianis with her.
I scroll back to the picture, zooming in on the lone woman. I didn’t know who she was at first because of the distance thephoto was taken from, but now I can see that it’s Svetlana, the woman Katya introduced me to at our wedding as her mother. I know, of course, that she’s my wife’s stepmother, the woman who largely kept her out of the Bratva world and supported her in her career as a ballerina from the time she was a girl.
Katya capitulated the instant Sidorov sent the picture.
Suddenly, everything clicks into place. I’m staring at the reason she agreed to marry me and walk away from ballet.
“Fuck me,” I mutter.
“What is it?” Priest asks, instantly on the alert.
“Sidorov is using her stepmother as a bargaining chip. He must have threatened her previously, because in the string of texts, he sends her a surveillance picture of Svetlana, and Katya instantly agrees to meet him.”
“So he’s blackmailing her, then.”
I nod, still processing all this in my mind, trying to understand what it means.
“Which makes her dangerous,” Saint adds.
“You’re sleeping with the enemy,fratello,” Lucky tells me grimly.
“Katya’s not the fucking enemy,” I snap, quick to defend her.
I don’t even know why. The incredible sex? The way she makes me wild for her?
“So youaresleeping with her.” Lucky grins. “I fucking knew it.”
I scowl at him and make a gesture like I’m going to cuff him in the head. “Fuck off. You worry about making a bomb that goes off at the right time, and I’ll worry about my wife.”
“You need to worry about her,” Priest cuts in, “or we will. Get to the bottom of what’s going on with Ekaterina and Sidorov, and report back to me. In the meantime, Luck, you get the detonation sorted. We need this to go down exactly as planned,and the sooner it happens, the better. I have a feeling Sidorov’s got something up his fucking sleeve, and I don’t like it.”
On that, we agree.
Ditto,fratello. Ditto.
Katya
The first thingI do when I get back to Enzo’s penthouse is vomit in the guest bathroom toilet until there’s nothing left. Then I brush my teeth and shower, trying to scrub the dirty feeling from my skin.
I can’t.
