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As realization hit me, I sunk back into the chair. A car gifted to me by Angel, to ease his guilty conscience.
That bastard. No way was he not working with Kristoff to get his car back. It would be two birds with one stone for them. It was how the Bloody Ones operated.
When Onyx didn’t pick up, my anxiety shot up. Had they already gotten to her? I didn’t care about the car as much as the fact that she was my only real getaway option, should I ever need one. Also, I really thought she was a badass, and she deserved to live her life free of chains…and whips, if the rumors about the twins held any truth to them.
I called her two more times, and on the third attempt, she finally picked up.
“What?” She sounded haggard.
I heard a car honk in the background. “Is everything okay?”
She cursed, but I didn’t think her ire was directed at me. “Seriously? That’s why you called me? What are we now, best friends?”
Okay, perhaps her irritationwasaimed at me. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get into any, um, double trouble.” Paranoia had overtaken me after Mia’s assumption. Would it be possible that perhaps my phone was hacked? Maybe Damon was listening in. He was the Bratva’s IT specialist, after all.
“Double trou—” Onyx stopped, then took a ragged breath. “No, I’m just peachy. Those assholes haven’t gotten to me.”
The woman seemed to be able to read perfectly between the lines. Yet more proof of her brilliance.
“Good,” I said relieved. “It would kind of suit me if they didn’t, say at least for the next three months.”
“Ekaterina Romanov, what the fuck did you do?”
It wasn’t exactly a roar, but there was something in her voice that made me wince.
“I didn’t do anything. I just want to make sure you stay out of the twins’ for the foreseeable future.”
She huffed. “You said three months. Tell me why you came up with that specific time frame.”
I told her about my bet with Kristoff.
First she laughed, then she cursed. I heard words in various combinations and languages that I’d never heard before. Onyx’s vocabulary of dirty words could put a sailor to shame.
“Do you have any idea what kind of man you’ve married?” Onyx finally said. “If Kristoff fucking Romanov took on a bet with you, it means he’s damn certain that he’s going to win. That guy doesn’t do anything on a whim, and he sure as hell doesn’t lose.”
“Crap.” I felt my car turning into dust.
“Yeah, you can say that again. Oh, and Katya?”
“Yes?”
“Tell those two crazies that if they don’t stop cyberstalking me, I’m going to defenestrate them!” Her voice was like a whip.
“I have no idea what that word means,” I admitted, “but I’m sure it isn’t something pleasant.”
Her voice was uncharacteristically soft when she said, “Also, thanks for the heads-up.” Then she hung up.
I’d barely put my phone back into my purse when someone sat down across from me. Surprised, I looked up to find Ilya lounging in the chair.
“What do you want?” I asked, foregoing any niceties.
He took something out of his pocket and put it on the table. It was a picture of a man and woman. I leaned over the table and pulled the old Polaroid toward me.
My heart constricted when I recognized the woman. Mom looked so young, beautiful, and carefree, hugging a tall and bulky man beside her who, I assumed, was Aslanov.
“Your father,” Ilya said, confirming my suspicion.
My fingers hovered over the picture. It was the first and only picture I’d ever seen of my parents together.
