Page 127 of Beguiled

“She was pushed off the roof of her building. Do you know what happens to a body when dropped from that height? Every bone in her body was crushed.”

“Goddamn it!” he exclaimed, smashing his fist on the table. “I didn’t hire him to kill Tawny. I wouldn’t do that. I adored Tawny. I loved her, for God’s sake. I wasn’t good enough for her. I tried to warn her. Her goddamn father planned her wedding. To that fucking slimebag Armenian. I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t want to hear it. She got away before I could stop her. I couldn’t leave the goddamn club. Or I would have gone after her.”

I stared at him for a few minutes before exhaling, pulling my phone away. “So you admit you’re working for Mikhail Chertov.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Then who?” Dimitri demanded.

Patrick didn’t want to talk. Sean leaned over. “If you tell us the truth, I won’t make you suffer and I’ll ensure your sister is well taken care of.”

This was the part of business that in truth I no longer enjoyed. I’d been so damn angry after being forced into the family that killing people hadn’t fazed me. But this was different. This was personal.

However, loyalty meant everything.

“Vardan Zargarian.”

I glanced at Sean who was stricken by hearing of the man’s betrayal. We had no intention of sticking around to the end.

“I’ll be in contact, Sean, but as of now, you’ll need to find another fighter. I’m retiring.”

And why? Because I was no longer that man.

I’d found something to ease my rage and my hunger.

Saige.

CHAPTER 27

Stash

Grief was different for everyone. I’d grieved my father as a child, always knowing he’d never wanted to have anything to do with me.

Mikhail had grieved the same man first when believing he’d had something to do with his beloved mother’s death and then again when his own father hadn’t cared about to be with him during his long battle with cancer. The final time had been when my mother and I had been brought in. In his eyes, my mom had replaced his and I’d become more important to Vladimir than he’d ever been.

That last part hadn’t been true, but I’d been too busy wallowing in my own self-pity to give a shit about Mikhail. Or Kazimir for that matter.

I didn’t handle grief well. I’d learned to shut down. That made it so much easier.

Through spending time with Saige, I’d come to understand through her grief in losing her best friend that sharing pain wasn’t about wallowing in it. Doing so was providing a remembrance of another person.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked for the fourth time that morning. We were on our way to pay our respects to Tawny and her family in a funeral home near the Hamptons.

In the days following her death, we’d put the pieces together in business that Saige had suggested while laying low, using the same methodology that Mikhail had used against us. Time.

We knew exactly how we wanted to draw him out in the open. It was simply a matter of keeping our patience.

And laying the groundwork. One piece was about to occur.

“She’s my friend, Stash. I don’t care that she didn’t tell me who she was. She died trying to protect me. The least I can do is to honor her now.”

She continued to fidget in the passenger seat.

“You’re truly the strongest woman I know.”

Her laugh was hollow. “You called me conniving last night.” She unfastened her seatbelt, taking another deep breath.

I removed mine, immediately shifting and cupping her face, pulling her toward me. “Yes, you are. Absolutely a true con artist, but I adore that about you.”