Page 35 of Lord of Justice

"Of course. This is how civilized people arrange their closets."

"Even Marie Kondo would tell you to lighten the hell up."

Turning to examine my side of the room, she gives a long, low whistle. "This explains so much about you. This level of precision is deeply troubling."

Unbuttoning my dress shirt and throwing it into the hamper, I keep my gaze locked on hers, until her eyes drop to my chest. We haven't had much time around each other, particularly unclothed, though I intend to rectify that. She's examining my tattoos closely, the Morozov wolf crest snarling over my heart, the blindfolded Lady Justice with scales in one hand and a bloody sword in the other over my right pectoral.

My belt makes a loud snapping sound as I pull it loose from my dress pants and it seems to break the spell. She blindly seizes a handful of her clothes from a random drawer and abruptly leaves the room.

The penthouse is silent when I come out of the shower. Pulling on a pair of sweats, I settle in a lounge chair on the terrace. There's a breeze circling the tower, drying my skin. My thumb hovers over Nikandr's number for a moment before I grunt irritably and press the button. When did I start hesitating before I called him?

"Hey, brother. Are you back from terrorizing our German associates?" Nik sounds genuinely pleased to hear from me.

"It was three days of yammering that could have been handled in one if they'd had their documents in order."

I can hear splashing in the background. He must be outside by his pool. There's a low murmur and he says, "Yeah, go get the deck, I'll clear the table."

"How is Caroline?" I ask because I know it is expected.

"She's great! The hotel reopening has made her so happy. How's your lovely bride?"

"Fine." I believe so. She seems fine.

"I dropped by to see her yesterday when she was in the media division at Morozov Global. She looked drained. Jessica really put her through it, huh? Did she complain to you every night? Threaten you with disembowelment?"

Getting up, I pace along the railing of the terrace.There's a mini waterfall that starts on the roof of the penthouse and streams down the rock wall here before disappearing into a drain. I run my fingers through the water as I say, "We didn't talk."

"What?"Nik sounds horrified. "You didn't call Iris atallwhile you were gone? What in the hell is wrong with you?"

"Is this one of those cloying rituals you and Caroline engage in?"

"No, Andrey. This is something every married man who wants to keep his balls does! You don't fly off and leave your wife alone without checking in on her. Your new, twenty-year old bride!" Nik sounds so shocked.

"She wasn't alone. Melina was here."

"What the - If she stabs you, I'm sitting next to her at the funeral." Caroline says something in the background and he tells her, "He didn't call her once!" I can hear her scoff quite clearly. "Brother, I love you. I recognize that this relationship thing is new to you. When you're away, you call your wife. It reassures her, it's bonding. I suggest you plan one hell of a night out tomorrow. You've got some making up to do."

I run my hand through my hair. "This wasn't meant to be complicated."

"Here's my suggestion," he says patiently. "Apologize to her immediately for not calling. Say that you're just now getting used to being a human being. Tell her that tomorrow night is dinner and dancing, or welding or ax throwing or whatever the hell she wants to do."

"Why would you give over so much power?" I didn't mean to say that. It's awkward. I'm always so judicious with my words.

Nik's tone softens. "I can promise you that it's not giving over power. It's sharing it between you. You're asking one hell of a lot of Iris; you need a partnership to make this all happen. And not like the partnerships at work where you just scare the fuck out of the rest of the attorneys and then do whatever you want."

A horn blares in front of the tower, a truck likely because it's loud as fuck. It shakes me out of this strange conversation. "I'll let you go." I hear something clinking in the background. "What are you doing?"

"Caroline and I are playing strip poker." There's a giggle.

"But she's a card shark." I frown. "You're guaranteed to lose."

"Exactly," Nik agrees.

"I'm hanging up."

Chapter Seventeen

In which Andrey is a progressive bastard.