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“We don’t know if there was a plan yet.”
“When you open that safe, I bet you’ll get the confirmation you need. You’ll find out that there is a plan in place and that I’m the Trojan horse. And maybe if it was just you looking for the proof, you could bury it and figure out a way to beat my father at his own game. But with Nikolai there, you can’t risk it. Taras will kill me when he finds out, and he might even kill you.” I fist my ponytail, twisting it around my fingers. “It’s over. Everything is over. And the worst part is, I don’t think my father would give a damn if he knew that what he risked is–”
Luka cups my chin, tilting my face toward him. “Hey,” he says in a soft voice, which is completely uncharacteristic for him. He’s always growly and harsh. Never soft and sweet.
Occupational hazard, I guess.
Killers and thugs bring out the gritty.
“You’re freaking the fuck out without having any information. Nobody is gonna kill you, and they sure as hell aren’t stupid enough to try and kill me.” He nods toward the house. “We’re going in there to figure out the truth about that attack. Maybe it can lead us to Valentina, too. There’s a lot at stake here, and I’m not gonna jeopardize anything or anyone.” His gaze darkens. “I won’t do that. I can’t. I’m responsible for too much now. I’m not gonna fuck it up.”
That last part sounds like he’s trying more to convince himself of it than me, but whatever. I’ll take it. I need all of the affirmation that I can get right now.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath. “I just feel like I’m dangling over the edge and there’s nothing below me but a slab of concrete. I can only crash.”
“Only if I let you go,” he murmurs, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Please don’t,” I say, lacing my fingers with his.
He brings them to his lips, searing my flesh. “Never.”
I bite down on my lower lip.
Easy to say now, when he doesn’t know the whole truth.
But what will happen when he does?
Will he give me that final shove?
Luka gets out of the car and opens my door, leading me up to the front door of the mansion. He fishes his keys out and sticks one in the lock, pushing open the double, glass-paneled doors.
I swallow a gasp.
My family doesn’t exactly live in the slums, but holy cow, this place is like a museum.
High-vaulted ceilings, ornate chandeliers glimmering in the center of each room, bright white walls adorned with gold and marble accents.
It’s breathtaking, and that’s an understatement.
Luka squeezes my hand and pulls me toward a room at the back of the first floor. I gape at the ones we pass en route. Nikolai stands in the middle of the expansive granite and marble kitchen, drinking a bottle of water. Once we step inside, he finishes guzzling the last of it and places the bottle on the counter.
“What’s the plan?” he says to Luka, his eyes focused on his brother.
A shiver of unease licks at the hairs on the back of my neck.
Does he know something?
“We investigate,” Luka responds. “Anyone else know about this little visit?”
Nikolai shakes his head. “At the very big risk to my own ass.” And for the first time, he turns his gaze on me. “What does she know?”
“As much as we do,” Luka says, looking around. “Where’s Mom?”
“We’re right here,” a female voice says from behind us. I turn to see an almost carbon-copy of Valentina staring at me.
I recognize her from the wedding. She’s the other sister. And Irina is practically plastered against her as they walk into the room. “Mom needed some water.”
Irina’s eyes are glassy, her blonde hair unkempt, her face clear of any traces of makeup.
