“It is my business!” He called back as I was nearing my bedroom door.
“Oh?” I spun around, my hand on the doorknob.
“I need to know because all I can do is think about killing him. Especially tonight. I need to know because if I don’t, I might do something stupid. I don’t want to hurt you, Poppy, but dammit, this is making me mad—crazy! I can’t stand by and watch him hurt you.”
His words echoed around the small hallway as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. “Then don’t. You’re fired.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ivan
Poppy couldn’t fire me,but the words were enough to set me ablaze. As if she could walk me out of the front door herself, and I would leave that easily. She had another thing coming. I pressed my head against the wall and contemplated going for a run or doing push-ups or anything to get this feeling out of my limbs—this restlessness.
Then she’d gone and tried to derail me from my quest to find out more about this engagement by telling me I’d taken her virginity.
Fuck.
That made everything more complicated. I untucked the gun from my pants and placed it on the nightstand. I paced until my legs burned. The ritual would steady me: a hundred push-ups, a thousand tiny repetitions until the rage turned into something that could be directed instead of exploding. I started fast, my breath coming in hard and even. By the time I hit fifty, my focus had sharpened into a cold and usefulthing. Then I did another set, sweat started to roll down the sides of my face, but I still didn’t stop until my vision was blurred and I could hardly breathe.
As far as I knew, I’d never been anyone’s first, and being her first made this heavier. I’d thought over the entire night so many times, I knew she hadn’t bled. But apparently… not everyone did.
I shot off a quick text to Dimitri. I needed to meet.
Then I shot off another to Don. They would be back before dinner. Jane wasn’t worried about continuing to stay at the library and was about ready to come home anyways.
It took them twenty minutes to get home, and I was out of the door without a glance at either of them. I had plans to make, torture to schedule, and a brother to fill in.
Dimitri was waiting for me at his favorite Italian restaurant with a glass of wine in his hand. It was still so strange to see him in a five-piece suit instead of turtle necks and cargo pants. This was an upgrade, even if it was still odd.
“I have to say, I was a bit surprised to get this meeting,” Dimitri took a sip out of his glass and watched me sit with his predatory gaze.
“Cut the shit, you’ve had Benson watching me.”
He shrugged, but he didn’t deny it. “So for what do I owe the pleasure?”
A glass of water was placed in front of me, and I wondered if I needed a glass of wine too. After the day I had… I could get sloppy drunk, but I knew if I did that, then Iwould have to rely on Don longer than I planned, and I didn’t want to put that on him. “I’ll have a glass of wine.” I was a glutton for punishment.
“He’ll have what I’m having, it’s delightful.”
I screwed up my nose. Delightful? Who the fuck was this man, and what had he done to my broody, grunt-filled jerk of a brother?
The waiter wasted no time bringing the wine and then disappearing. I stared at the glass as if it would bite me. He’d described it asdelightful,and now I wasn’t so sure I wanted to even try it.
Could I call the waiter back and order a beer? Did a place like this even serve beer?
“I’m in politics now, Ivan, I have to be personable. I want everyone’s vote, you see.” Dimitri smirked as if he read my mind.
I nodded. “I wanted to meet up because I need to know everything there is to know about Donovan Madden, and if anyone would have that information, it would be you.”
Dimitri leaned back in his chair and watched me for a few antagonizing seconds before he leaned forward on the table, his fingers steepled. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Fairchild, would it?”
I scowled. “Does it matter?”
Dimitri's lips curled into a smirk. “Maybe. I know very little ofhim,but his family is another matter entirely. His father’s name was in one of our father’s books. They own the rest of the docks in the port, which we can’t touch. Iwould put money on it that they are trafficking, and if they aren’t, they’re selling weapons.”
“What can we do?” I leaned forward to match him.
“What do you mean? There isn’t really much we can do,legally.”
