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I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to the report. Paige’s ex-fake husband really did a number on her. He left her with virtually nothing to her name. It’s better than being left with a mountain of debt to wade through, though. In that sense, she’s lucky.
Though I doubt she’d agree with that assessment.
Konstantin leans forward to peek at the report. “There’s really nothing good in there, is there?”
“Boring is good.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “Boring isboring.”
I slide the report back in the envelope. “Call Yan. Tell him to get his ass over here. I need him to draw up papers and amend my will.”
Konstantin lifts his eyebrows. “You’re really doing this.”
“I told you I was. I’m not sure why you sound so surprised.”
“Marriage is a big deal, cousin,” he says with a kind of seriousness I don’t hear from him very often.
“I’m aware. Hence the legal paperwork.”
Konstantin looks wary, but he rises and turns towards the door. He’s moving slowly, and I know there’s more he wants to say. He’s holding back.
Just as he reaches the door, he summons his courage and spins back around. “You don’thaveto marry her.”
“Of course I do,” I snap. “She’s pregnant with my baby.”
He hesitates, but keeps his mouth shut this time. He backs towards the door. “If you say so. I’ll give Yan a call now.”
“Good.”
He’s almost out of the room when he leans back through the doorway. “For fuck’s sake,” I snarl, “you’re like herpes. Just when I think I’ve gotten rid of you, you flare up again.”
For a change, he doesn’t take the bait. “Have you told the family yet?”
I wince. I’m surprised he didn’t ask the question sooner. “No. Not yet.”
“Uh-oh, naughty boy,” he tsks. “When will you?”
“When I decide the time is right.”
Konstantin sighs and quietly leaves the room. Finally—silence.
* * *
“You’re really getting married?”
My attorney, Yan Carsten, asks the question with the same disbelief and pity he’d use to ask a terminal cancer patient if they’re really sick.
He is the kind of lawyer that gives the entire profession its well-deserved reputation. He’d sell his grandmother if he found a half-compelling reason to do it. But he’s an absolute shark when tethered to the right cause. It’s why I keep him on the payroll.
Maksim inherited Yan when our father died. If he didn’t see fit to fire him or lock him in a cage and throw away the key, then he’s good enough for me, too.
“I am,” I answer.
Yan runs a hand over his balding head and smacks his lips together. They are perpetually dry and bleeding. I’ve learned to tolerate the smacking.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Never thought I’d see the day.”
I cock my head to the side. I’m not sure Yan and I are close enough to justify a comment like that.
