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Great.
"Anatoly," Liza finally acknowledges her fiancé, her voice flat. “Why are you here so early? Dinner’s not until eight.”
He gives Liza a patronizing grin as he sits back in his seat, his fingers intertwined and resting on his gut. “I had business with one of your father’s men,” he says with a wave of his hand. “Since our old friend was visiting, I thought it was only polite to say hello.”
I manage a tight smile as Anatoly pours himself a cup of tea, making it clear he’s not going anywhere. He was considered handsome back in school, but with his receding hairline and paunch, he’s now not the shining star he once was. Though, his swinging dick attitude suggests he hasn’t yet received the memo.
“So,” I ask through gritted teeth. “How have you been?”
“Fine, fine.” He dismisses my questions with a little wave. “I’m sure Liza told you everything there is to know about us. I’m more curious about you.”
My heart lurches. Somehow, I don’t like the sound of that.
“TheSocietyarticle said Belov is connected with your family in New York. Is that how you met? Through your brothers—the Kozlovs, right?”
“That’s right,” I confirm. “Maxim and I met in New York, and eventually” — I force the next words out — “we fell in love.”
“Ah, yes, you fell in love strolling through his vineyard and curling up to watch movies together. How quaint.”
Liza scoffs. “Wake up, Anatoly. It’s how most couples get together these days, not because they're the solution to their family's financial sins."
Anatoly’s dead shark eyes cut to Liza. His mouth settles into a grim line. “Aren’t you lucky that in Russia we still observe the old way of doing things, or else your family would be on the street.”
Liza looks away, her knuckles turning white as she grips the armrest of her chair.
“We’re all friends here, Kira. You don’t need to feed me the same drivel you feed the press. I know how you really met.”
My stomach drops. What is he suggesting?
I lock eyes with Liza, who subtly shakes her head.
“I have no idea what you mean.” I fight to keep my expression neutral.
“Your father, of course.” Anatoly’s smile is razor-sharp as he cocks his head my way. “Are you saying you’re not aware of Belov’s connection to Oleg Antonov?”
I swallow, deliberately keeping my tone light. “Maxim and I don’t talk about my father. It’s unpleasant.”
Anatoly's eyes narrow, a hard glint appearing in their depths. “Your father was a real piece of work, wasn’t he?” He pauses, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. I know I won’t like what he says next. “Oleg discovered your husband in an underground fighting league in Moscow’s slums. He’s the one who brought Belov into the world of the bratva.”
Nausea swirls in the pit of my stomach. If this is true, and Maxim and my father did have a connection, it explains why Maxim would help my father kill Masha.
Fuck.
Liza frowns. “What? I’ve never heard that before.”
“It’s a well-known fact in certain circles. I’m surprised your husband never mentioned it to you.” The way he says that, it's clear he's enjoying having information I don’t. “Then again, Belov rose far above the ranks of your father. I’m sure he wanted to distance himself from that disgrace as much as possible.”
Anatoly’s words buzz through my brain, but I can't focus on what he's actually saying. Questions run through my head, pieces of a puzzle scattering and rearranging themselves.
How close were Maxim and my father? Why did he keep this connection from me?
I should be elated by this revelation—it's the first lead I've had that connects Belov with my aunt's death—but for some reason, it feels like a betrayal. Which makes no sense. I've been digging for the truth, but now it feels like I'm buried under its weight, unable to breathe.
Anatoly worms forward in his seat, seeming to take delight in my shocked silence. “Don’t be too hard on the man. I’m sure he planned on telling you at some point.”
“Leave her alone,” Liza snaps at her fiancé. You know how she feels about her father.”
I should be asking a million questions, but they all feel too heavy, stuck in my throat. I stand abruptly, cutting off further conversation. "Thank you for the visit, but I should get going. Maxim and I have an event tonight.”
