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“Where are we going?” His hands clench and unclench on the wheel as he examines the digital displays on the dashboard.
I put on my seatbelt and turn to him, my expression deadly serious. “To the last place you took my wife.”
If there’s fear running through Viktor, he doesn’t show it. I’ll let him enjoy being behind the wheel and wait until we get there to quiz him. After twenty minutes, I glance up from my phone, surprised by the scenery.
I had expected to see the countryside surrounding Zhanna’s secluded estate, but instead, we are driving along the river toward a crowded tin diner.
“Paige Geraldovna met with a realtor here to discuss her late father’s house,” he explains.
“Is the food any good?” I grin. “I missed breakfast.”
Viktor shrugs. “The burgers and salads are worth it, but I’d avoid anything with gravy.”
He stands a little taller as we enter the place, and I sense eyes on us when we walk to our table. My vintage Saint Laurent suit pegs me as an outsider, but only for a moment. Once the initial shock wears off, I’m no longer an object of curiosity and blend into the crowd.
We sit at a table with a window near the car, and I notice a couple slowing down to admire it as if it were on display at the zoo. The waitress hands us menus, but I hand mine back, placing an order for a hamburger and salad. Viktor asks for the same with a Diet Coke. We wait until we have our food to talk and then put our phones away.
“I’m glad you are staying away from Emma,” I tell him.
He looks away sulkily. “I’m not for her,” he replies.
“Nor is she for you,” I reply firmly. “Make no mistake, Viktor. We may no longer be in the old world, but we are still bound by the chains of tradition. Love came later, not first.”
“Yet you fell in love with Paige Geraldovna.” He stares at me too hard. Viktor knows the truth. I wanted Paige from the start. “And I am forced to watch you give away Emma like prized cattle at auction.”
My jaw tightens.
“Do you know the difference between you and Gleb Novikov?” I ask.
Scoffing, Viktor puts down his fork. “He was born into the right family. And I’m just the peasant boy following after the skirt of a czarina.”
“All Bratva came from peasant stock,” I point out. “The real difference between you and him is that you are the better man.” I sit back, gauging his reaction. “Gleb Novikov is a punk. Any man who kills his bride on their wedding day for power is a punk.”
Viktor nods and stares down at his hands folded on the table.
“Someday, you would like to be a pakhan, wouldn’t you, Viktor?” I ask.
He shrugs the question off. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” I reply smoothly. “Gleb is the last of the Novikovs.Someonewill have to take over once he dies.”
His confidence returns as his back straightens and his chin lifts. “Is that what you want, my pakhan?”
I nod. I’m willing to offer Viktor this to secure his loyalty. And have him spy on my wife.
“Your pakhan demands an answer.”
The spark returns and reignites the fire in his eyes as Viktor replies,“I care for no one but the Bratva, and I shall love none other than the Bratva.”
“Molodets.” I raise my glass in salute.
Chapter 25
Andrei
My phone vibrates in my pocket as I arrive alone at the construction site and park by the office trailer.
“Yes, Talia,” I answer bluntly.
