I’m not following how this relates to her fighting a man twice her size until she’s broken half a dozen of his delicate bones and cartilage, so I wait for elaboration.
“Garzalikesmy sister, but he thinks she’s too moral. They have a tentative alliance, but he wants stronger insurance. He knows Ness hates parts of his business, he wants someone who doesn’t.”
She means skin trade, a favorite business of my father’s which I’ve worked hard to root out over the last decade.
“I don’t—” I start to say, but she cuts me off with just a wry glance.
“I know you don’t do that, Maxim. So does Garza. But your cousin is on a fucking political campaign and if Garza gets to thinking that he’s the right Orlov horse, he’ll back him.”
“You think Garza would help Nikolai stage a coup?”
“Depends on how appealing the alliance would be for him with Nikolai in charge. Either way, it would leave all of us vulnerable.”
She moves the ice to the other side of her face, wincing slightly as she presses it against her skin. Her cheek is bright red from the cold. My brows knit at these seemingly disparate pieces attempting to fit together.
“Me offering to fight for Garza was a huge goodwill gesture. Friendly. Champion fights already make the most money, but people bet recklessly when I’m in the ring.”
“And what if Ivan had won?” I ask.
“He might’ve if he was fighting Carlos. I’ve fought him before. It would’ve been a well-matched fight, and probably a long and bloody one.”
I grip the stone counter instead of demanding she tell me about every man she’s fought in that building, the detailed outcome, and their first and last names.
She goes on. “If Carlos was fighting, it would be a win-win for Nikolai. If Carlos beat Ivan and Nikolai was a good sport about it, it would do a lot in growing Garza’s amity toward him. And if Ivan won, it would’ve earned Nikolai some respect.”
I let out a breath finally understanding. “You orchestrated the absence so the goodwill could be for you instead.”
She nods and takes a sip of her tea, not burning herself this time thanks to the single ice cube I dropped in. She never waits for it to cool down, a horrible habit, always searing her tongue.
“For us,” she says. “I’m an Orlov now. I wanted to remind Garza which Orlov was the better pick when Nikolai won’t even fight his own battles.”
“How did you know to do this?”
“Santi called Leo. Leo called me.”
“And you decided this was the best path forward? For a small bit of favor?”
“It couldn’t have gone better. Most battles are won through little victories. This was one of them.”
I have to admit that this is true, it’s a scheme I never could have come up with, but I’m still irritated to have been left out of it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She jumps down from the counter and looks up at me defiantly. “Because you would have tried to stop me, and we needed this to work?”
“I could’ve listened.”
“Youwouldn’thave, Maxim! You have made it very clear that I’m a jewel that needs protecting, your fragile little thing?—”
“I don’t think that,” I say, though of course I think she needs protecting. She is precious to her family, to me, and she doesn’t begin to know how dear she is.
We’ve stepped closer to each other in our disagreement, me leaning a hand on the counter to get as in her face as she’s in mine.
“You told me once I was a good fighter, but now I’m pretty sure you think I’m only good for incubating Orlov babies in your penthouse.”
“Stopdoingthat.”
“What?”
“Twisting everything! I know you’re capable, that doesn’t mean you should have to put yourself in harm’s way, you deserve peace and tenderness.”
