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“Says who?” Iakov asks.
“My wife,” Sev says.
“Romantic fucker,” Iakov says affectionately.
Iakov displays about as much emotion as a brick wall, but he’s always had a soft spot when it comes to Sev. My theory is that Iakov is chivalrous at heart, and Sev’s long eyelashes and jewellery have somehow tricked Iakov’s brain into treating him like a damsel of sorts.
“I’ll go with you,” I say.
“You don’t even smoke,” Luca points out.
I ignore him and follow Iakov to the door.
“Theodora!” Luca calls after me, and I pause in the doorway. “Am I adding her to the list, then?”
“Why would you?”
“I’m just asking.”
“Her name doesn’t belong on your stupid, pointless list,” I snap. “And nobody cares except you. Stop embarrassing yourself.”
“I’ll add her just in case,” Luca says with a slicing smile. “Since you two are bound to fuck at some point.”
It’s obvious he wants a reaction from me, just like he wanted one from Evan. But I won’t give him the satisfaction. He doesn’t deserve it.
I flip him off and leave the room, wondering whether I should pay the oleander tree in the greenhouse another visit.
“Whyarewefriendswith Luca again?” I ask.
Iakov is leaning against the trunk of a willow, and I’m standing on the edge of one of the old abandoned fountains, the marble half-hidden underneath a tangle of moss and brambles.
We didn’t need to go this far into the grounds for Iakov to find a place to smoke; he generally smokes wherever he feels like anyway.
Still, the fresh air and greenness of our surroundings are refreshing after the week of snow we’ve just had.
“Dunno.” Iakov shoves a cigarette between his lips and lights it. “He’s rich as fuck?”
“We’re all rich as fuck.”
“You’reall rich as fuck.” Iakov gives a growling laugh. “My home is a shitty flat in Chertanovo—you live in a fucking palace.”
I pause in the middle of the circuit I’ve been carefully walking around the fountain rim and glance at Iakov. He meets my gaze with a level look.
I hold it.
“What did Zahara tell you?” I ask.
He exhales a wreath of smoke. “Told me she told you shit she shouldn’t have.”
“She didn’t mean to.”
He gives a half-grin that makes him look like a grimacing wolf. “It wasn’t a secret. You two. So fucking British. Who cares where I live?”
“Why did you never say anything, then?”
He shrugs. “You never asked.”
“And Zaro did?”
