“It is today,” I fire back, already halfway out of the yard.
But apparently Kostya hasn’t said his piece yet, because the bastard follows me into the house and straight into the kitchen.
“You have to snap out of this, brother. You can’t live like this. It’s not healthy.”
I scoff. “We’re Petrovs. Since when do we care about what’s healthy or not? Not sure if you’ve noticed over the years, but we’re kind of toxic.”
“That might be all good and true, but you’re still scaring the shit out of me.”
“I’m fine,” I say, opening the fridge door, only for him to slam it shut.
“You are not fine. You’re fucking spiraling,” he shouts, exasperated.
“If I’m spiraling, it’s because you won’t get out of my way. Now move, Kostya, before you force me to move you myself.”
He hears the threat in my voice and, thankfully, steps aside long enough for me to grab another bottle.
“So this is your plan, huh? Drink yourself into an early grave and just die from liver failure? Because that’s what it looks like from where I’m standing.”
I roll my eyes, only for my chest to tighten at the Stella-like gesture.
My jaw twitches as I stare at my brother in fury for provoking that reaction out of me.
“Maybe that’s exactly what I want. It would save me from having to hear your fucking lectures all the time.”
“Well, tough shit, because here comes another one,” Kostya grits out, stepping in front of me and blocking my path.
“Kostya, I’m not in the mood,” I grind out.
“Again, I couldn’t give a fuck. I’ve let you wallow around this house for months now and haven’t said a word.”
The urge to roll my eyes at him again is strong, but I keep it in check this time.
Hasn’t said anything?
Right. The little shit hasn’t stopped giving me a hard time since we got here, but okay.
“Summer is almost over,” he starts, “which means you’re going to have to go back to Chicago and face her eventually. I mean, fuck…you arranged for us to work with the Romanos because of Stella. How the fuck are you going to do that now, when you can’t even pull yourself together with her a whole fucking ocean away?”
I plant the bottle on the counter with a thud and grab Kostya roughly by the shoulders, fear suddenly flashing in his eyes.
Fuck.
Is this how low I’ve gotten? That my own brother is afraid of me?
I release him immediately, take off my sunglasses, and set them beside the vodka so he can look me in the eye and see I’m no threat to him. Then I lean back against the counter, leaving space between us to prove I won’t touch him again.
“You’re right,” I say flatly, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ve built my whole life around…” I take a fortifying breath when I can’t even say her name. “But I can fix that. I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I’ve made a decision.”
Kostya’s brows knit together in confusion as I continue, laying out the only plan I could think of that would ensure I’d never stand between Stella and her dreams again.
“I’m going to talk to Misha and tell him you’re staying in Chicago as Underboss. You know the lay of the land. You know the ins and outs of the club and the riverboat. And your relationship with the Romanos isn’t as tainted as mine—at least not with Lucky. You’ll be able to build from there and earn their trust, while also making sure theBratvathrives in Chicago.”
“Okay?” Kostya says warily. “And if I’m doing all that, what the fuck will you be doing?”
“I’ll be in San Francisco,” I reply. “With my new wife.”
Kostya’s eyes go wide instantly.
