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“You think you know him so well?” Yasha asks. “You think he cares about you?”
Yasha is pressing on a painful emotional bruise, but I lift my chin. “I know he does. And he cares about you, too. Or… he did. Before you ruined everything.”
Yasha’s chin dimples as he bobs his head back and forth, considering my words. “Well, you’re right about one thing: he certainly cares about me.”
I roll my eyes. “Take your mind games somewhere else. I’m not buying it.”
“I’m not selling,” Yasha retorts. “It’s not a game; it’s a fact.”
“You think you know what our relationship is like? Well, you don’t. You don’t know anything about our marriage.”
“‘Our marriage.’” Yasha practically cackles. “God, he’s really got you good. I always said I’d rather have the brains in the family than the looks, but now, seeing you all tied up over Adrik, maybe I was wrong. Good looks can carry you so far when there are stupid girls involved.”
I grit my teeth. “I’m not some silly little schoolgirl with a crush. I love Adrik for a thousand reasons. None of which a monster like you could ever understand.”
Yasha’s eyebrows shoot up. I realize what I’ve said, what I’ve admitted. My face flames. He doesn’t miss it.
He smirks. “Poor thing. In love with a man who is using you. Don’t feel bad—you’re in good company. Most Bratva marriages are more politics than anything else.”
“That’s not what this is!”
“No?” Yasha shrugs. “Okay, then maybe I misunderstood what happened yesterday. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.” He turns slowly away, sauntering towards the doors.
I know he’s baiting me, trying to get me to bite. To ask him what he means. The last thing I want is to give Yasha what he wants. And yet…
“What happened yesterday?” I ask, hating myself the moment the words leave my mouth.
Adrik told me what happened. He confronted Yasha at the eagle’s nest, but Yasha escaped. I don’t need to hear anyone else’s side of the story. Least of all Yasha’s.
But the words are out, and there’s no taking them back now.
Yasha turns back around, his mouth turned up in a half-smile. “My brother told you he found me yesterday, I’m guessing? I’m sure he told you he tracked me down and fought hard. Maybe he even told you I just barely slipped through his fingers.”
“Like the snake you are,” I spit.
The amusement is clear on Yasha’s face as he leans in and lowers his voice. “Well, between the two of us… I’m not sure my big brother’s heart was really in it.”
Speaking of hearts, mine is pounding out of my chest. “What do you mean?” I ask. My voice sounds breathy, frightened.
“Big, strong Adrik. Always the handsome one. Always the athlete. No matter how hard I practiced, no matter how hard I tried, I could never beat him. But yesterday, it was easy to slip away.”
“I’m sure there’s a reason,” I snap, but my words fall flat even to my own ears.
Yasha knows it. He laughs. “Oh, certainly. Poor guy had just blown his own house up. It was a tough day. I bet he was just a widdle bit sleepy.” His sarcasm is vicious enough to sting me into recoiling.
“Maybe you got lucky.”
“Maybe,” he concedes. “Or maybe it’s like I was saying and Adrik was just tired. Maybe he was so tired that he couldn’t even lift his gun and take aim at me as I was driving right past him. Maybe that’s why he fired three shots at the ground instead of at my head. Maybe that’s why he didn’t even try to kill me.”
I blink at him. Yasha just grins.
“But you say you know my brother, so you must know how important family is to him,” Yasha says, his voice oily and cruel. “And I know him well, too. If you ask me, I think firing into the ground was his way of choosing his family over a secondhand piece of ass.”
Yasha isn’t pressing on the emotional bruise anymore—he’s slicing it wide open. I feel like a bleeding, open wound, raw and painful.
I narrow my eyes. “I do know your brother. And I’m sure he told you exactly how quickly you need to leave the premises.”
The slight shift in Yasha’s face tells me I’m right.
I point him towards the door. “I’d hop to it if I were you. Unless you want the next two bullets Adrik fires to be a little more accurate.” I reach out and tap his forehead for emphasis. I’m surprised my finger doesn’t burst into flames.
Yasha looks over my shoulder. I could swear I catch a hint of nervousness on his face.
Before he can say anything else, I turn and walk away.
Thankfully, by the time I reach the elevators, I look back and see Yasha turning the corner. I'm about to head up when two police officers round the same corner he just disappeared behind.
My heart instantly jumps into my throat. It doesn’t take much to get my heart rate up these days. Are they here for Adrik? For me? For Isabella?
But then I see a petite woman in handcuffs between the officers. They lead her past me and into a room further down the hall.
As soon as they're gone, I take the elevator up to Vadim's floor. Adrik looks up as I step through the door. He is still standing next to his father's bedside, his expression still worryingly flat. The room is silent.
There's so much I want to say. So much I want to ask him. But I can't seem to find the words.
Instead, I blurt, "Police."
“What?”
“Police,” I say, trying to regain my composure. “I saw them downstairs. They weren’t here for us. There was a woman in handcuffs. But…”
“We should go,” Adrik says, understanding at once.
“Is that okay?” I glance at his dad. “We can stay if you—”
“No need.” Adrik moves forward and grabs the top of his dad’s sheet. In one flick of his wrist, he throws the sheet over his dad’s face. “He’s dead.”
Suddenly, I realize why it’s so silent in here.
No machines pumping medication or fluids. No mechanical chirping, registering each beat of Vadim’s heart.
Because there’s no beat left to measure.
Adrik walks around the bed and strides toward the door without touching me. “Let’s go.”
I don’t know what he needs me to say. Or what I should say. So I say nothing.
I just follow him out of the room and into the hall, leaving his dead father in our wake.
