But today isn’t any other day.
It’s been a full week since he told me his plan. A full week of silences and nights spent alone. He was trying to change my mind, I know. But the old Yulian would have forbidden this outright, so I’m counting the cold shoulder act as a victory.
Would be nice if he stopped acting like an asshole, though.
My black maternity dress snags on the stairs. “Shit,” I mumble.
That, of all things,makes Yulian turn. “Need some help with that?”
I hate the way he asks. Like I’m not even up to climbing down a staircase in the dark, let alone acting as medical backup to a Bratva conspiracy. “No.” I scowl, yanking it free. “I’ve got it.”
“Didn’t look like you had it two seconds ago.”
“Are you going to criticize everything I do or can we keep going?”
He pauses, breathes, says nothing at first. Then: “After you,” gesturing for me to step forward in mock chivalry.
“Hmpf.” I turn up my nose and grab my maxi dress, walking the rest of the way down like some Victorian maiden. Couldn’t be avoided, though—another false step like that and I’ll break my neck for real.
Once we’re back on solid ground, I look around me.
As always, everything around here screams “luxury.” The place is decked in gold foil and black velvet, a den of sin and money, and drinks trading hands across the bar that might cost more than all my organs combined.
My eyes flit to the gambling area. There are tables for all sorts of games: poker, baccarat, Russian roulette. That last one strikes me as particularly appropriate.
“Wow.” Next to me, Kallie wolf-whistles. “This place islit.Though not literally lit. Honestly, I can’t see shit.”
“Glad to know I’m not the only one.”
She, too, volunteered to provide medical backup once she found out the deets from Maksim. He looked like a kicked puppy when we got here, which tells me everything I need to know about how that particular conversation went.
Though I can’t really blame him. Having Kallie here gives me mixed feelings, too. Especially after what happened last time.
But I wasn’t in a position to argue. Not after I’ve fought tooth and nail to be here. If there’s one thing I can definitely see in this dark, smoke-filled hole, it’s the irony.
“I’m gonna go lose Maks some money,” Kallie says cheerfully. “Wanna come with?”
“No, thanks. Think I’ll hang back and brood.”
“Hey, it’s your funeral.”
Let’s hope not.
I haven’t been alone five seconds that I hear Yulian’s voice in my ear. “I take it you’ve never been to a casino,” he whispers with a note of amusement.
“Is that a crime?”
“Just interesting, is all.”
Interesting.Right. “How about, ‘You don’t belong here and should have stayed home’?” I bite back. “Or are we not doing honesty anymore?”
“If that’s how you feel, I can call a car.”
Like hell.“No, thanks. In fact, I think I’m gonna go play—” I turn towards a table at random and point. “—that.”
Without thinking, I stride with all the false confidence in the world towards the blackjack table.
Not that I’ve ever played blackjack. Or watched a game. Or read about it. My knowledge begins and ends withCasino Royale,which, come to think of it, was about poker. Might not be as helpful as I initially was hoping for.
