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He drops the file back on the desk and folds his hands together in his lap. “So I’ve been thinking…”
“I thought I warned you about that.”
He scowls at me but continues anyway. “I’ve been thinking about the third question. The one The Wolf asked you.What will you do when it’s over?And… and I guess it made me wonder what life will look like once there is no Petyr Ivanov. No Ivanov Bratva, period. I mean, shit, Misha: what the hell will we do with ourselves?”
“This is the Bratva, Konstantin. There will always be another enemy around the corner.”
He doesn’t look mollified. “Sure, but Petyr has always been the biggest bad in the business, you know? He’s your archnemesis. Enemies we can handle; enemies are easy. But Petyr has fundamentally reshaped our lives. He’s the reason Maksim isn’t here. Once he’s gone… I mean, do you think we’ll finally be able to move on?”
Move on?I feel my chest knot up painfully. There’s muted hope in Konstantin’s voice when he speaks about our possible future. Light at the end of the tunnel, when you see it through his eyes.
But I can’t seem to find the brightness. Moving on? The thought just leaves me feeling empty. What is left when revenge is gone? What will get me out of bed in the morning?
“Time will tell,” I mutter evasively.
“I think I’m gonna travel a little once we’ve fed Petyr to the Babai,” he muses, going starry-eyed at the prospect. “I’ll hit Asia. Japan. Maybe head north from there and stop by the motherland. Could be fun.”
“You have a life here,” I remind him. “And a job.”
Konstantin laughs. “You say that like they’re separate things. Let’s face it, Misha: our jobsareour lives. Have been since Maksim died.”
I flinch a little at how casually he throws those words around these days. Almost like it doesn’t hurt him anymore to say them out loud. When did we get past the point of speaking about Maksim’s death in uneasy, harrowed whispers?
“Of course,” he adds, “you’ll have a wife and two kids to go back home to at the end of the day.”
I glare at him. “No, I won’t. I’ll have my children. But Paige and I are an arrangement. Nothing more. She’ll understand that.”
“Do you really believe that?” he asks. “Or is that just what you’re hoping for?”
Hope. There’s that word again.
No one hopes for a hurricane, but when one is headed your way, you might as well be honest about it. That is why I’m honest with myself about my future with Paige. It will only ever lead to destruction. The sooner it hits, the sooner I can rebuild.
“It has to,” I snarl. “I’ll make sure it does.”
Konstantin doesn’t match my energy. He just smirks and shrugs, breezy as ever. “You have a natural talent for being an asshole, but I’m not sure even you can change that girl’s mind.”
“Agree to disagree.”
He snorts derisively. “Paige has worn her dead best friend’s necklace for almost two decades without ever taking it off. She put up with her scumbag ex despite everything he did to her. The woman is loyal and fueled by the blindest faith known to man. She ain’t breakin’, my man.”
I stroke the edge of my desk. “Oh ye of little faith.”
Konstantin smiles and leans forward. “Misha, you’re my cousin, my don, and my best friend. I’ve known you my entire life, and I’ve loved and respected you for the entirety of it. But if it comes down to betting on you or Paige… brother, I’m betting the house on her.”
17
PAIGE
“Never, never, never,” I chant, holding my closet door closed. “Step away from the door. Leave right now. I’m never coming out.”
“Please, Paige. It can’t be that bad.” Cyrille pushes weakly on the other side of the door.
I glance back at the full-length mirror behind me and then away again, horrified. I was excited about the lingerie when Cyrille first pulled it out of the bag. But now…
“There’s no way I can wear this. I look like a pregnant stripper. I look like a Winnie the Pooh sex doll. I look like Shrek ate Shrek.”
I hear a tiny snort of laughter from the bedroom.
