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Sighing, I returned the letter to the envelope and sat.
“It’s beginning. Isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I nodded.
“How did they find out?”
“I have no clue. My brother and the others just found out tonight.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“What I always do. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my marriage a secret for long. Hell, it shouldn’t have stayed a secret as long as it did. I just thought it would take a little more time before I got the letter. Which means someone other than me and Maxim must have known all along, but I can’t think of a single person.”
“You already know who is doing this, Illyria. You’ve always known,” Mrs. Rushton carefully said. “He’s been making your life hell for the last year. Now he’s in the city.”
She was right about that. Why Boris Petrovitch had a hard-on for me was anyone’s guess. He dealt with Maxim most of the time. Not me. When I left Max and returned to Chicago, I thought I was free of that life. I was wrong. It seemed at every turn, Boris Petrovitch was there, watching, waiting in the wings for something.
What it was, I didn’t know.
“But I don’t understand why.”
“It doesn’t matter why, sweetheart. He’s evil and you know it. You need to tell your husband the truth. He needs to know that man has been following you and causing trouble.”
I knew she was right.
They all deserved to know the truth.
This war brewing between the East and West coast families would soon spill over everywhere. No family would be safe. Not even the Soulless Sinners who weren’t even affiliated. Soon, blood would run in the streets and only the strongest would survive.
Nodding, I whispered, “I’ll tell him.”
“Sooner rather than later,” Mrs. Rushton ordered, getting to her feet. “Just rip the band-aid off, Illyria. He will be angry at first, but in the end, he will do the right thing.”
I wasn’t so sure about that.
Chapter Thirteen
Illyria
Checking my reflection, I sighed. It was going to be another boring night of drinking, hobnobbing and money. Why I agreed to go to the Museum of Natural History’s yearly fund raiser, I would never know. The yearly fund raiser served a wonderful cause to help illiteracy in the city. The money raised tonight would go to help the inner-city schools, where kids could have new books and supplies.
It was also about to serve two purposes. One, it gave me something to do while supporting a good cause. Second, it was a good public venue to tell Maxim the truth. I knew I was hedging my bet, but with Maxim, I never knew what kind of mood he was going to be in.
He was in a constant state of anger most days, barely keeping his grip on reality, and the second the words I needed to tell him fell from my lips, he was going to blow. There was nothing I could do about that. No way to soften what I was about to tell. Mrs. Rushton was right. It was just best to rip the band-aid off swiftly and let the chips fall where they may. My only concern was the aftermath. Because if I knew him like I thought I did, there would be no place I could hide. No sanctuary would protect me.
Only death would save me from his wrath.
Walking out of my bedroom, my heels clicking on the marble floor when my cellphone rang. A private number flashed on my screen. Stopping, I connected the call. “Hello?”
“Your sister-in-law is beautiful. Her belly would look good swollen with my child,” the thick Russian accent gruffly said, making the hairs on my body stand at attention.
“How the hell did you get this number?” I sternly said, looking around the empty penthouse, as I ran for my purse, searching for my burner phone. The one my brothers drilled into me to keep at all times. Dialing Salvatore’s number, I silently cursed when the line went directly to voicemail.
The fucker laughed in my ear. “Did you really think he would pick up? You’ve been excommunicated. No one will help you now.”
“I have friends, you sick fuck.”
He laughed louder.
