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“I’m attracted to her.”And she to me.
“But—”
“But nothing,” I cut him off. “She’s my wife. Mine. I won’t let anything happen to her.”
“And Iryna?” Adrian crossed his arms over his chest. “Your sister? The woman you escaped hell with and have been inseparable from for over a decade?”
“Fuck,” I hissed, bringing my hands up to scrub over my face in a vain attempt to rub away this newest development. “Things were just starting to fall into place.”
“Explain, please,” Adrian needled.
“Talia knows what a devil her father is now. She’s bent on undoing him.”
Adrian closed the distance and dropped a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Constantine.”
He rarely used my given name. I dropped my hands and looked at him.
“How do you know she’s not playing you?” My cousin’s analytical mind was drawing the obvious connection.
And it was the logical thread. But my mind, body, and soul—and most especially my heart—rejected logic. I’d seen her face when she was looking at my laptop. I also knew she’d been to the prostitute’s house and confronted her father. Philip’s report had been thorough. Unbeknownst to Talia and her father, he spoke seven languages, French being one of them. Talia thought she was on some crusade to end me, and instead, she’d realized what a rotten, sickly cause she’d been tricked into championing.
“She’s not.”
“Oh, hell, Constantine.” Adrian pulled me into a bro-hug. His arms clenched tight as they slapped against my back. “You’re fucked.”
“Yeah. I am.” I squeezed him hard, and then we disentangled.
“So, what are we going to do about Yna?” Adrian’s bushy brows popped up in question.
“Keep her busy and away from my wife. She won’t see Talia as anything but a threat until Gustave and Claude are dead, preferably at Talia’s hand.”
“You’re going to make her commit patricideandfratricide?” Adrian snorted. “Good luck.”
“Well, she doesn’t have to pull the trigger, but she has to point and aim. I can do the rest.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
“You’d drink to fucking anything,” I snapped, slapping him upside the head.
“Hey!” Adrian protested. “I’m on your side, cuz.”
“Glad someone is,” I muttered. “Let’s go to my office and start to do damage control. Have you given Yna your answer?”
“Not yet, I came to you first.”
“Good, that’s good.” I felt a weight lift from my chest. Iryna could kill, but Adrian had bought precious time, probably saving my wife’s life by delaying a response. “Here’s what you’re going to do. Agree to it, but get Yna out of the States for a few days. I have business with the Bratva to finish, and then there’s the damned concert next weekend.”
“Going to help Viktor?”
That was an entirely different mess. Too much shit was flying at me; I couldn’t hit it away fast enough. But if I could tread water for just a little longer, I could get ahead of everything. “Yeah.”
“Cool, give the Russians my love.”
“Damn vodka drinkers,” I muttered, grabbing a towel and heading to my office.
“Hey! Vodka is supreme.”
“As is gin, whiskey, and rum.” I rolled my eyes.
