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“But not to you?”
“Nobody tells me what I do with my friends, darling.” She raises an eyebrow. “I assume we are friends now?”
“I hope so.” Although I’m not sure that’s true. I’m afraid being friends with a woman like Katarin is as deadly as Peter thinks.
“Good, I hope so too. Which is why I’m giving you this advice. Listen to Peter. And when he comes asking for a favor, you run the other direction.”
I let that sink in. “He’s going to ask for money?”
“No, not money, a favor. And I think he’ll ask soon.”
“What does he want?”
“I have my suspicions, but you’ll find out.” She looks away toward the cafe with a far-off look. “One other thing, perhaps related. Does the name Reina mean anything to you?”
I blink at her. “That’s my half-sister’s name.”
“I thought as much. Reina Courbet.” She sucks on her teeth. “What a small world,” she murmurs. “Though perhaps not so small.”
“I’ve never met her, I only know she was born a few years before my mother met my father and had me. Mom never talked about her.”
“I can’t tell you anything about that, but I can tell you this. Peter’s meeting with a woman named Reina Courbet right now.”
I have to lean back in my chair and stare at her for a few moments to keep myself from freaking out. There are too many coincidences and connections falling into place right now, and I feel like there’s something important she’s not telling me, but she’s trying to come at it sideways instead. Like she can’t say it directly, but she’s trying to warn me anyway.
“Why are you telling me this? Why is my half-sister meeting with Peter? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t understand myself, if I’m honest.” She seems distracted and uncomfortable. “I wasn’t going to tell you about Reina, but now I think you deserve to know. You’ve kept your distance from your family, haven’t you?”
“I’ve tried. That’s why I haven’t touched the money my parents left. I wanted a fresh start. I wanted to be my own person. Maybe that’s stupid.” That and I know exactly where the money came from, and I’m not sure I could live with myself knowing my lifestyle is funded by blood.
“That’s admirable, not stupid at all. Let me give you some advice then.” She stubs out her cigarette and stares at me. “When Peter comes asking, tell him no. Whatever it is, tell him no, and go back home as fast as you can.”
Chapter3
Peter
Adrienne avoids me when I get back to the apartment that night and it feels like a relief.
I sit out on the balcony and stare down at the quiet street below. I sip wine and lean back in my seat, staring at a couple as they walk down the alley together speaking Greek. Their laughter echoes up and I wonder what they have to be so happy about.
Back home, there’s still a war raging. There’s been a war raging on and off for years now, and I can still picture every single one of my friends and soldiers and comrades that have died over the years. My father and uncle and all the other crime lords believe it best to make amends with the Italians and turn against the Russians, and it feels like they’ve forgotten the names of the dead.
I haven’t forgotten. I hold them close to my chest and think of them every night before I fall asleep. I think of what they gave up for the family and what I do with the hard-fought wins they earned. It breaks my heart to see the state of our world now.
And now I’ve been sent away. All because I don’t agree with my family’s leadership. All because I remember the dead.
The balcony door opens and Adrienne steps out. I look over and try not to let her catch my gaze as it moves from her mouth down her body and back up against. She’s wearing yoga pants and a tank top, and it’s hard to keep my eyes from bearing down on her for too long. I have to remind myself that she’s a punishment, not a reward.
But the girl’s beautiful. Frighteningly beautiful. The scars and bruises don’t do a thing to dampen the intensity of my attraction—if anything, the way her nose is slightly crooked and her lip is puckered from the still-healing wound makes me want her that much more. She’s flawed and she knows pain, just like me.
“I had lunch with Katarin Balaska today.” She sits in the chair next to mine and takes my wine glass. I say nothing as she takes a long sip. “It was nice, actually. We talked about you.”
“What did she have to say?”
“She said this job you’re on is a lot more complicated than you’re making it out to be.”
“I doubt Katarin knows what this job is.”
