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“I have my ways. As soon as Alexei tried to get me to leave New York, I knew you were the only person who could have possibly wanted to warn me. Well, maybe Neo, but he seemed preoccupied with your widow.”
“L, I swear to God, leave my wife out of any and all conversations, or it won’t bode well for you.”
“I’m not saying anything bad about her, Theo. You’re wound too tight. I’m just glad I didn’t end up in her shoes.”
I laugh. “I never would have let that happen.”
“You’re welcome, by the way. You never did thank me for taking care of that problem.”
“I’m not fucking thanking you for killing my father, Lana. Are you insane?”
She shrugs and looks down the walkway. “You can come out now,” she calls as Alexei appears from behind the curtain.
“Great, there goes my fucking peaceful flight.”
“Shut up and sit down. We have a plan to come up with.”
* * *
Eight hours. Eight fucking hours, I had to sit and endure the torture of listening to Lana dictate what she thought should happen. Eight fucking hours, I was trapped on a jet with a Russian I wanted to strangle with my bare hands.
His only saving grace was that Lana seemed to really fucking like the idiot. I find myself, yet again, making concessions I wouldn’t otherwise make for her. Despite how I feel about Lana right now, she was one of my best friends growing up. It was always Neo, Lana, and me—us against the world. I can’t seem to let go of those years, of that bond we developed over underage partying. She used to confide in me about the boys she liked or dated.
When she lost her virginity in some jock’s car, she came and toldme. And I broke the fucker’s knees, because she deserved better than to be fucked in the back seat like a goddamn streetwalker. Do I care about her? Yes. Do I fucking hate her for what she’s done? Again, yes. I don’t know how to fucking compartmentalize these feelings.
We’ve just landed in Italy, and I’m thankful for the reprieve as we enter the small cottage I rented. I could go to the Valentino estate, but that would defeat the purpose of being dead. I don’t want the other families to know of my whereabouts yet. The only positive thing that came from those eight hours on that fucking flight was the intel I managed to get out of Lana. I know every place her idiot brother frequented. One being a hole-in-the-wall strip club not far from here. I’m planning on walking down there later tonight, to see if I can find anything out about what ol’ Johnny boy was up to and what he was looking to accomplish in New York.
I fire off a quick message to Holly. I don’t want her to worry anymore, so I need to make a conscious effort to check in regularly.
Me: Just landed, safe and sound. Please let me know when you’ve touched down, dolcezza.
I know she’s still in the air. The flight from New York to Sydney is over twice as long as the one to Rome.
ChapterTen
“Can I just shoot him and put us all out of our misery already?” Neo whispers to me.
“Don’t joke about that. You know he woke up from being in a coma not that long ago.Because he was bloody shot,” I volley back.
“Okay, so no to the shooting.” He holds his hands up in surrender.
I don’t blame him. Bray’s nonsense is even getting onmylast nerve. “Reilly, can’t you distract him or something? You know there’s a bedroom that way.” I point to the back of the jet. I’ve been on private planes before. Bray’s friend, Dean, has one. But this jet? This is like Trump-level money, I’m sure. I could live in this thing; it’s that luxurious. The white leather seats are like sitting in a La-Z-Boy. They’re so comfy.
“Fuck no! You think I’m going to let all the fucking men on this jet hear her scream when I make her come? Not a fucking chance!” Bray seethes.
“Well, man up and stop complaining.”
“Holly, I love you. You’re one of my favorite sisters-in-law. But if I die on this jet, I’m coming back to haunt your ass.” Bray clings to the armrests.
“Tell me, Bray, who is your favorite? Me or Alyssa?” I ask him. Alyssa is one of my and Reilly’s best friends; she’s also married to Bray’s older brother.
“That’s not a question I’ll ever answer,” he says between clenched teeth.
“Well, obviously, it’s me. It has to be.”
“How do you figure?”
“Well, you love Reilly, and I’m literally her clone. So, technically, you love me too.” I smile.
