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I raise one eyebrow and regard him coldly. I don’t ask him to continue. I just stare at him until I can see the sweat forming on his brow. Until his fear is a cloying, repulsive scent that displaces the last traces of almond left in this room.
“I know it seems like I was an asshole to Paige—”
“Because you were.”
He swallows. “But there was a reason I left her the way I did.”
“You were trying to save your own fucking skin,” I infer. “Because you realized that working for Petyr Ivanov was not the dream job you thought it was going to be.”
His sweat thickens. “I didn’t rat you out. I didn’t give him any sensitive intel.”
I unfurl slowly to my feet. Anthony cringes backward. There’s a table and at least ten feet between us, but he looks downright terrified.
“That’s because you didn’t have any sensitive intel to give him,” I growl. “You were at the bottom of the fucking food chain.”
Any composure in his posture vanishes as I saunter closer and he starts to stammer. “I didn’t even know it was Ivanov’s man who approached me about the job! It was only later that I put it all together.” His eyes are bloodshot. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days. “Anyway, once I realized who I’d gotten involved with, I tried to back out. But he didn’t let me. He was sure that I could get more information for him. He threatened to kill me and my wife if I didn’t do what he wanted. That’s why I left the way I did. I figured if it looked like I abandoned her and ran, then Petyr would have no reason to go after Paige. Except… she ended up with you.”
“That’s the part I’m interested in. Howdidshe end up with me, Anthony? And remember—” I raise my finger in his face—“I can’t fucking stand liars.”
Anthony rakes a trembling hand through his sparse hair. He looks genuinely rattled. “I honestly have no goddamn clue.”
I search for lies in his voice but I find none. I’m starting to feel something. An inkling of foreboding, a sense of creeping dread. Afear.
That maybe I fucked up.
“So you’re telling me she had no idea what you were doing on the side?”
“I mean, she thought we had a rinky-dink little business we were looking to grow. She didn’t know about my side gig with your Bratva. If she’d known, she’d have stopped me. And we needed the money.”
“Enough that you started stealing more,” I say. “Did you filter the money you stole from me through your business?”
Anthony nods.
“Which means you were stealing from me long before Petyr Ivanov came knocking. That’s why they thought you could be turned.”
He’s not even bothering to wipe the sweat off his forehead anymore. It drips down the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, okay… I stole a little here and there. But in the grand scheme of Orion’s business, what I took was pennies.”
“They weremyfucking pennies.”
His eyes flare with panic. “I stole about fifty grand over the last five years,” he says, talking fast now. “That’s it! A-and… I’ll pay it all back. I swear, I’ll pay it all back.”
“To what end? What do you expect me to do once you’ve returned what you stole?”
“My life,” he bargains. “I want my life.”
I’m not about to promise this son of a bitch anything just yet. “What was the thinking behind leaving Paige penniless? You cleaned out all her bank accounts. You said you left to protect her. How does turning your wife out on the street keep her safe,mudak?”
A bead of sweat rolls right into his eye. He blinks it away. “I… I needed the money. It costs a lot to disappear. I needed a new identity and a car, all that shit! Paige is resourceful and hardworking. I knew that she’d land on her feet. I just didn’t expect her to land with you.”
That dull, heavy feeling in my gut twists. My mind is scrambling to remember the bile I spewed at her at the hospital. How venomous it was. How boiling.
Howwrong.
“I thought disappearing would save her from this world. I thought she’d be off Petyr’s radar once I was no longer in the picture, y’know? But when it became clear that she had gotten tangled deeper in his web, I knew I had to come back and do something. I know it doesn’t seem like it but… I did love Paige. I do love Paige.” I walk around my table. Anthony recoils another two steps back. “A-are you going to kill me?”
“Haven’t decided yet,” I tell him honestly.
He gulps and looks around the room, as though searching for an escape hatch. He’s pushed all his bets on this conversation, hoping I’ll be merciful rather than vengeful.
