I hold her tighter.
That world can stay far the fuck away from her.
44
PETYR
Misha’s penthouse is cleaner than any single man’s place ought to be. It smells more like linen and lavender than it does whiskey and women, which can only mean that someone else has been keeping it that way in his absence.
Not a partner, though, if I had to guess. There’s no trace of a feminine touch anywhere. It’s the clinical high-rise of an unrepentant bachelor. Almost a carbon copy of my penthouse before Sima.
Sima. Lately, it’s been feeling more and more like her arrival into my life was a historical event. The kind that marks a “before” and “after.”
She gave me so much, and asked only for one thing in return: for me to find her sister.
Like hell am I going to fail.
Misha is sitting on the couch when I walk in. His arm is in a sling, but otherwise, he looks healthy. A scar still cuts down theside of his neck, pink but healing, though it’ll probably never fade completely.
“Petyr,” he says with a nod, but doesn’t get up. “Didn’t expect you to drop by.”
I close the door behind me. “I’m here to collect.”
He frowns. “Collect?”
“The debt,” I say. “You told me you owe me one.”
Misha huffs a laugh and leans back into the couch. He gestures for me to sit down as well, so I do. “I did. Didn’t think you’d cash it in this fast.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” I admit. “But I promised my wife something. And I think you’re the only one who can help me.”
That gets his attention. “Well, let’s hear it, then. Anything I can do for Sima, I’ll do.”
“She asked me to find someone,” I tell him. “Her sister. Lara Danilo.”
Misha’s brow knits. “Danilo? As in?—”
“Yes.” I cut him off. “Her father’s side. The same ones who tried to take my head off two months ago.”
“So your wife is the daughter of the man you’re trying to put in the ground.” He shakes his head, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’ve got a talent for complicated women, I see.”
“Just complicated circumstances. Though I’m hoping to uncomplicate them by putting her father in the ground, as you said.”
“I take it her brother is the one who shot at us.” His gaze levels with mine. “You put him in the ground, too. Wonder how that went over with her.”
“With all due respect, that’s none of your business, friend.”
He smirks like he expected my answer. “Very well. What do you need from me?”
“I’ve found part of the trail,” I say. “Lara was married off to Timur Volkov when she was eighteen.”
Misha’s face shutters at once. He goes from open and accepting to locked down like a vault in the blink of an eye. Strange. “Any particular reason you’re asking me?”
“Yes.” I don’t even bother to hide it. “Timur is your brother, isn’t he?”
Misha’s expression shifts fast. Surprise, then irritation. “Half-brother,” he says finally. “And now I’m wondering how the hell you know that,friend.”
“Because I’ve been digging into him. Your name didn’t come up easy, I assure you.”
