Page 75 of No Greater Oblivion

“And you think he’s setting up Rian to take the fall?”

“I’m not sure. What I do know is if my brother is at risk, I’m obligated to step in.”

“I wasn’t aware the two of you were close,” I quip.

“Blood is blood, is it not? Your father’s bastard is your righthand,” he replies smoothly. “Besides, there’s our mother to think about. I don’t want to see her in pain any more than Rian does which means we have to tolerate each other.” I quirk a brow at him. Sasha makes a flagrant gesture with his hand. “At least until she’s dead.”

“I’m deeply touched by such a warm display of brotherly love.” I finish my drink and leave the empty glass next to his on the counter. “I know Li’s reasons for approving the sale of my share in his LLC. Fifteen percent is still a considerate amount of control. What I don’t understand is why Vellucci was on board.”

“Vellucci is a family man. He thinks it’ll force Rian and me to play nice. I promise it wasn’t malicious on his part.”

“And Li?”

“Li decided to choose between the lesser of two evils. Narvaez Enterprises would’ve swallowed him whole last year if Rian hadn’t swooped in and bought you out of Li’s shipping company. He also knows you could take control of his legitimate enterprises if you were so inclined so he figures the half brother of his closest friend is safer than his competition.”

“What do you gain from the purchase?” I ask out of curiosity.

“I please my mother by protecting her son with the added bonus of pissing off brother dearest. Two birds, one stone.” Sasha examines me a moment as if something just occurred to him. “And you? What’s your motive to sell?”

This time it’s me who’s grinding their teeth. “Rian pissed me off.”

Sasha’s mouth splits into a razor-sharp smile. “Ah…malen’kiy tsvetok.”

“What?”

“The little flower who adorns my brother’s side. I’d heard rumors you and Dahlia Rosario were…previously involved.” He lifts his shoulder. “Personally, I don’t believe in fighting over women but even I can admit to having my hat in the ring at one point.”

I get up from the table and start for the exit. Sasha chuckles and follows close behind.

“Has she made it through all of fucking Manhattan in a year? Jesus.”

“It’s impressive,” Sasha remarks, his accent caressing each word. “I can’t help but admire her for it.”

As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. The relationships and connections she’s managed to acquire in just a year are impressive. Personally, I couldn’t care less about how many men a woman does or doesn’t sleep with. The concept of shaming women for sex has never made sense to me.

What gets under my fucking skin is knowing my Dahlia, who belongs with me, isn’t. Instead, she’s spent the last year conquering the city to get on my nerves. I don’t know what’s worse. Her being with other people to spite me or being with someone because she’s actually in love. Both thoughts make me murderous.

“Is Rian in tonight?”

Before Sasha can answer my question, we step out onto the main floor of The Empress, having just come from one of the downstairs conference rooms. The first thing our eyes land on is Dahlia—it’s impossible to miss her, seeing as how she’s the only one dancing on the bar.

Sasha says, “Ecstasy.”

I whip around. “What?”

“Ecstasy,” he repeats. “She only dances like that when she’s on something.”

“Wh—” I stop myself. “She⁠—”

I can’t formulate a sentence.

Dahlia’s standing on the bar in a strapless red mini dress and the fringes and sequin move with the sway of her hips. The bartender fills a shot glass with tequila and holds it by the bottom with his mouth. Tilting his head back, he waits for Dahlia to reach down and grab the rim by her teeth. She flicks her chin back and downs the shot before tossing the empty glass into the crowd of onlookers at her feet.

Her hair is wild and long, the waves tightening into loose curls past her shoulders. It’s been an adjustment seeing her without the red hair and while she isn’t any less striking without it, I’ve found it to be a distinctly different kind of beauty. Not my Dahlia; someone else entirely.

The dress clings to her body like a second skin, worshipping every dip and curve while the strapless design draws attention to her perfect cleavage and tan shoulders speckled with glitter. She dances and laughs and a man waves at her, gesturing for her to lean down. She does and he takes her hand to steady her while he whispers in her ear. They must know each other because she throws her head back and laughs before giving him a chaste peck on the cheek. Deciding she’s had her fill of bar top dancing, she sits on the edge while the man orders her another shot. They clank glasses and drink together.

Another man comes to join them and by the scrunch of Dahlia’s nose I can tell she isn’t in the mood to entertain him.