“She told me of your abuse, you sick fuck!” I punch his broken ribs, the reminder fueling my fury.
“Well, I had to train her to be the perfect Bratva soldier. The perfect honeypot. And boy did she do a good job. I mean, just look at you.” His eyes gleam with delight.
Despite sensing the trap, I have to ask. I have to push. All logic tells me to leave it alone, to not trust a thing this man tells me, but my curiosity is my downfall.
“She was never involved in the Bratva. And she’d never be a honeypot!” I snap at him. He’s lying.
“Oh yes, that’s what she told you when you inducted her into your little Syndicate. She swore her loyalty to you. Spilled all her secrets of betrayal. The plans of your demise she entered the marriage with. It’s sad to see such a valuable asset get turned.” His disappointed words throw me for a loop.
“You’re lying!”
“Ask her yourself.” The confidence in his words, in his grin, guts me.
“Why would you tell me this? Why would you betray your spy in the Syndicate?” The bitter words fly from my mouth. This is it. This is where I catch him in his lie.
“She betrayed me first when she attacked me. She plays only for herself. She’ll take down anyone in her path. She’ll stab you in the back just as she did me at the first opportunity.” Viktor’s calm flickers to fury only for a moment before he sighs. “Inducted into two families, loyal to none.”
Alex’s face appears in my mind, but I push it away. There’s no way she attacked and killed him because he doubted her. His accusations were false. They had to be. I know my wife. I know her. I know her loyalty to me…Right?
My eyes remain on his a moment longer, trying to decipher his honesty. But I can’t tell truth from lie. It muddles my mind.
I hear cars pulling up to the house and take that as my cue. With one last threatening look, I drop him and retreat back to my car.
The entire drive home is spent convincing myself of her loyalty. The walk through the house is spent questioning everything. Her peaceful, sleeping form mocks me in our bed, and I can’t seem to join her. Instead, I shower, and as I do, I recollect every encounter we’ve had. I try to puzzle it all together.
And when I go to sleep, on the opposite side of the bed as her, the distance between us is insurmountable. She sleeps soundly as I wage within myself, wondering if I even know my beautiful, elusive wife.
Chapter 45
Katerina
A ringing sound wakes me. Groggily, I reach for my phone. A gasp of surprise pulls from me when I see its Petya, my brother.
“Hello?” I whisper, confused. Petya hasn’t reached out in months. The last time I saw him was at my wedding, and he was only around for a few minutes.
“Katya, I need to see you today.” The words are not only rushed but also spoken in our native language. This is urgent and secret.
“What’s going on, Petya? You’re stressing me out.” It’d feel nice to be speaking Russian after so long, if it weren’t for the direness of the situation.
“I can’t tell you over the phone. But I need you to meet with me. Today.” His agitation is evident in his tone. And I don’t miss how he didn’t alleviate my concern.
“Where?”
He rattles off a park far from Viktor’s home, and I agree that it’ll work. Right before we end the call, he calls out, “Don’t tell your husband. Come alone.”
My eyes wander to my husband. He sleeps soundly as I plot with my brother in my native language. My gaze remains on him, curiously eyeing the space between us. Since the vow renewals, I’ve woken in his arms every morning. I guess it’s lucky that we didn’t today, so I could take the call.
It feels wrong to hide something from him, but this is Petya. This is my brother. My only family. He’s not like Viktor. If he’s asking me to meet with him secretly, I’ll do it, and if it warrants telling Dominic, then I will. Afterwards.
“Okay. Nik will drive me.” Petya trusts Nik. I know this in my bones.
“Nikolai can come. But no one else.” Without waiting for a response, he ends the call.
Silently, I slide out of bed and make my way to the closet. The black set I put on is perfect for the park. I tiptoe into the bathroom and do my usual routine. As I’m sneaking through our bedroom, Dominic sits up in bed.
“Where are you going?” I’m thrown aback by his tone. It’s gruff and almost accusatory.
“The park.” It’s only a lie if you count it by omission.
