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It’s obviously not Cora since she’s rotting in the casket below me.
Then who…? The sound of the shovel’s blade skimming along the dirt draws my attention away from the grave. Then there is nothing but darkness.
Thirty-Five
“She’s not here,” Anton reports.
“Fuck,” I snap. “Where the hell can she be?”
Anton’s brow buries in his hairline. I’m not going to get any help from him. I’ve never seen him this angry with me before. He’s livid with what I told Vanya in the car. There are very few people in the world that I would allow to speak to me the way he did.
He’s lucky.
“Did you honestly expect her to come back here?” he asks seriously. “The look on her face when you said those things tells me you broke her heart. She’s not coming back, brother.”
“She should have known this would never be about love,” I snarl.
“Really?” he questions surprised. “Because the way you were with her last night after the fire and then in the crypt—that spoke volumes. Maybe you’re not up toloveyet, but you care about her.”
I shake my head, dismissing the thought.
“Holy shit,” Anton smirks. “You are in love with her, aren’t you?”
“No,” I sneer, but it’s a weak denial. “I told myself I would never fall in love again. Not after what Ada fucking did.”
“Ok, you keep living in that pretty land of denial you’ve set yourself up in.” He shakes his head and smirks knowingly. Perceptive asshole. “Let me know when the rent gets too high, and you need to come back down to reality.” I run a hand through my hair as I pace the living room. “She needs to know that I can’t provide what she wants. She needs to leave her expectations at the door. I won’t go through that again.”
“Vanya isn’t Ada, Adrian,” he tells me softly. “In fact, I’m pretty sure Ada wasn’t Ada either.”
I shoot him a curious look. “Why do you say that?”
“You see, I was actually listening to what Vanya was saying in the car.” He looks at me pointedly.
“I was listening.”
He snorts. “Not well enough, or you are coming up with an excuse not to believe what you heard.”
I grumble something unintelligible under my breath.
“Fuck you,” I growl. “No one likes you.”
He laughs. The fucker actually laughs.
“Nice try.” He bats his eyelashes at me. “Everyone loves me.”
“Because you’re defective. They feel sorry for you.”
The door to the elevator dings open.
“I don’t feel sorry for him,” comes a smug voice. “He’s like a cute puppy who shits on the floor, but you can’t get rid of him because of those big doleful eyes.”
Anton scowls at the newcomer.
“Fuck you, Vitali,” he spits playfully. “At least I’m cute. You look like the wrong end of a Doberman.”
“He’s right,” agrees Kenzo, who’s standing to Vitali’s right.
“Pfft,” Vitali shoves off the comment. “This coming from the man who acts like a miniature Pinscher. All bark and no bite.”
