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“It’s Yulia.”
“You want me to hang Yulia by her imaginary balls?”
He snickers, but it’s fleeting. “Be serious.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Something happened this morning, and I…I want to believe I’m wrong.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“She…I’ve heard her whisper something to her maid a couple of times before. Something about giving Kris herbs that improve immunity and fuck knows what. I didn’t think much of it in the beginning, but out of precaution, I offered to give Kristina whatever herbs my mother had prepared, then I dumped them down the drain. I asked Kris to never drink or eat in her company and to only consume what Anna gives her.” His Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow. “Tell me I’m being paranoid.”
“Have you tested said herbs?”
“I got the results today.”
“Let me guess. They’re toxic.”
The clenching of his jaw is all the answer I need. “Maybe she didn’t know…”
“Wake the fuck up. That woman never does anything without a purpose. She wants your baby dead.”
“But it’s her grandchild.”
“And Kara and I are her fucking children. Do you think she took that into consideration when she tried to kill us? You’ve seen her throw herself down the fucking stairs when she was pregnant with our sister. You were old enough to remember.” I pause and soften my tone. “She’s always been obsessed with your safety and well-being, but she can’t stand Kristina. She’s the woman because of whom you went against her. Your mother isn’t the type who takes no for an answer. She probably thinks if she gets rid of Kristina’s child, you’ll have no reason to stay with her and will divorce her.”
“That won’t happen.”
“Then she won’t stop until it does.”
His chest rises and falls in an intense rhythm. “What am I supposed to do now? I don’t think Kris is safe around her anymore.”
“I can kick Yulia out.”
He pauses, touches his neck, then sighs, “She’d ask me to come along.”
“Then say no, motherfucker. Unless you’re in the mood to witness a tragedy?”
“Of course not.”
“Then I will make it happen first thing in the morning.” I clink my glass against his.
He drinks, though he still seems hesitant. Konstantin’s problem is that he always tries to see some of Yulia’s good side. It makes sense, considering all the love she poured out on him. At some point, she ended up asphyxiating him, and he always hated her attitude toward us, even if he pretended he didn’t.
“You might want to look further into Yakov,” Konstantin says.
“What for?”
“He’s her right hand in everything I refuse to take part in.”
Hmm.
Interesting.
This could be the clue I’ve been missing at the basis of my theory. I shoot Viktor a text.
Check Yakov’s whereabouts around the time of the cottage’s bombing and any possible communications with Makar.
Soon after, we’re joined by Adrian, who’s also not a fan of being separated from his wife. We don’t have to enjoy each other’s company, though, because thankfully, our evening is all set.
I have a few meetings with the Yakuza and the Luciano leaders, but my mind is occupied with other, more pressing issues.
When I go back to the main hall, I catch a glimpse of Kristina with Konstantin, and Rai is talking to Kyle. Lia is with her husband’s guards, but there’s no trace of Sasha.
A potent sense of paralyzing terror grabs hold of me, and I have to force myself to breathe properly as I call her. Her phone is turned off.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
I ask Kristina about my wife’s whereabouts, and she says Sasha left a while earlier.
Does that mean she left for good? Have I been blindsided?
I head to our room two steps at a time while twisting my wedding ring until I nearly break my finger the fuck off.
When I open the door and go inside, my breathing slowly returns to normal. Sasha is lying on the sofa, eyes closed and arms wrapped around her middle.
Fuck.
Fucking fuck.
If I keep going like this, I might have a heart attack the moment she disappears on me again.
I need that tracker on her. Now.
Yes, I still have her at the moment, but who knows what will happen in a few days or even a few hours.
My alarm has reached levels I can’t control anymore. It’s gotten to the point where I’ve become apprehensive about leaving the house and, therefore, her.
I’ve just finished texting Viktor to make the arrangements, when Sasha stirs. She props herself up on her elbows, eyes sleepy and voice husky. “Who is it?”
“It’s me.” I slip my phone back into my pocket.
She sits up, recognition slowly returning to her eyes. “Have I been gone for too long? I just needed a little nap.”
“Since when do you need naps?”
She swallows but soon smiles. “You haven’t been letting me get enough sleep lately, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Hmm.”
“And you probably won’t hold back tonight either, will you?” She starts to stand up, but I shake my head.
