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Or, maybe—he does.
And he simply doesn’t want to. I don’t know which is worse, but I know that as long as he says nothing, we are safe. Safe in this prison of lies. Safe until the glass cracks, and inevitably, it all comes crashing down.
Chapter Ten
Aleks
It’s the dead of night, and I am not asleep. I’m sitting with my back against her door, phone beside me, laptop beside me. I’m keeping my shit together, here, and back in Russia, somehow; keeping contacts and projects in the works has at least kept my mind off the stickier complications of this situation. But it can’t forever.
Like right now. I’m tempted to knock on her door. I wonder if, if I wait long enough, she’ll open it even if I don’t.
In the silence, I let my mind go where I haven’t yet. To marriage.
Marriage. To her.
What if?I’m not sure there’s ever been a biggerwhat ifin my life. My mother and uncle want me married—I can get married. I can show them a wife. And this one would come right along with a child, already made, already four years old. And a son, no less.
But not my son…not mine.Something ticks in my mind, a dangerous little fracture in very thick safety glass. I think of pushing my finger against it, leaning in, harder and harder until the inevitable shatter. But I don’t. I won’t touch that thought with a ten-foot pole.
Not yet.
But the other thought—the one of marriage. Marriage might not mean much to a random stateside American. But in the Russian mafia? Marriage is as good, as political, and red as blood. Marriage is an alliance, yes. It’s money, it’s loyalty. But it’s also safety.
I don’t love Kat. How could I? I barely know the girl. But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t something between us. She needsme, that’s almost enough. And I need to keep her alive, because I owe her that much. I need a wife, and I don’t want one who is tangled up in politics or in the Russian mafia, or in my mother or uncle’s shadier dealings. Anyway, an alliance like that would only confirm what Konstantin wants me to—that I’m afraid of him, and that my gang is threatened by his. I’m not interested in that.
But Kat…I could make Kat work. In more way than one. In fact, I’d be killing quite a few birds with just one very convenient, very pretty stone.
“Hey.”
I flinch, trying almost in vain not to curse out loud. How did she even get the damn door open without me noticing? I move to get up, but she waves at me to stay, scooting through the crack in the door and into the hall, sinking down against the wall across from me. She’s wearing a baggy t-shirt and underwear, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair is mussed, her eyes sleepy. She looks like she’s done little more than toss and turn for the last few hours.
“Can’t sleep?” She asks, yawning. When she stretches out her legs, one presses against mine. I try not to think too much about it, about the heat of her through my pants, or the way she smells like the shower she took right before bed.
“No.” I study her. She seems steady now. She watches me with drowsy eyes, but something about her seems more alert than usual. Would she be open to it, I wonder? “I have a lot on my mind,” I admit. “To be honest I don’t like the way things have gone. With this. Us. With…”
“Konstantin?”
“Yes.” I set my phone aside. “I know I told you I’d have this resolved more quickly. But the reality is that in this world, and in this line of work, there are always complications.”
Her brows draw together. “What kind of complications?”
Why put it off? “It has been posited to me that the timeline on my getting married has become…imminent.”
Her eyes widen. I don’t miss the distinct blush that colors her cheeks.Jealousy. I expected it, but it pleases me nonetheless, more than it should. “You’re getting married?”
“No. Well. I am expected to.”
“So, what? You’re engaged then? Betrothed?” She twists a thread from her blanket around and around her fingertip, until it darkens and swells. She unwinds it and releases a breath. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect that. I kind of didn’t take you as the marrying type.”
“I wouldn’t say that I am. But in this line of work, it is an expectation. Marriage strengthens alliances. It’s a tool.”
Her blush deepens, and now she won’t look at me. “A tool. Hm. I’ve never thought about it like that.”
“You wouldn’t have had to. But for me, it is. A tool. Or…it should be.”
She must hear something in my voice, because she looks up. “Should be?”
“Certain protections would be provided for my wife that wouldn’t be otherwise,” I continue, more slowly. My voice is laden with implication. But she only watches me, curious and measured. “A wife would be considered a much more precious prize. And a much more serious trespass if injured, or killed.”
