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“How could you tell?”
Her playful grin grows while she slides a saucer over to me. “You were never very good at sorting out your emotions. You’re so much like Papa.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I ask.
“Did I say it was bad?”
The first sip I take slaps my taste buds. It’s vodka with a splash of hot lemon tea.
And it’s exactly what I need to wash the bad taste of my conversation with Stepan out of my mouth.
How the hell could I ever end up loving someone like Liya Bernadetti?
“No, you didn’t say that,” I sigh. Another sip loosens my muscles and warms me. “Just asking.”
“You never worried about it before.”
I shrug. “Maybe I’m thinking about things differently.”
“You’re not.” And though I glare at her, it doesn’t prevent her from continuing, “Pasha, you do nothing but think about the Bratva. You never focus on yourself.”
“I can’t afford to.”
She groans. “You can, and you should.”
“It’s called balance, Karinka.”
“Like hell, Pasha.”
“Do I look like I’ve been neglecting myself?” I stand up and spin around, showing off the suit I bought this morning. As a treat for all the shit I’ve been handling lately.Which I’m doing remarkably well, despite the stakes.“Come on, Karinka.”
“You drape yourself in riches, thinking that’s what self-care means or whatever.” She waves away my annoyed expression. After sipping her tea, she sighs and slumps into the couch. “But there will be a day when you have to let it all go.”
I shake my head. “That’s not happening right now.”
“I didn’t saytoday, you idiot.”
“No, but it seems like you think that it’s sooner rather than later.”
She shrugs. “I’m just trying to prepare you.”
“You’re not even that involved in the family business.”
“Yet you ask me for advice all the time.”
The snark in her tone and the victory written in her penetrating gaze make me want to shred this couch apart. How many times have I sat here, telling her the bullshit that bothers me, only for her to say what she’s saying now?
It’s a conversation that lives in my skin like my tattoos. I hate it. But I love her.
And I know she’s probably right.
She traces the edge of the teacup. “Why don’t you trust your men to carry on after you?”
I shake my head. “That’s not something I can rely on.”
“But you specifically have these men around so youcanrely on them.”
“That’s not the point, Karinka.”
