I button my coat. “You’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.”
A small, amused smirk forms on her lips. “From where I’m seated, I’m not the one who made the mistake. Enjoy fatherhood, Sasha.”
Anger surges through me. If I stay any longer, I’ll do something I’ll regret. Watching the fire spitting behind her, I turn and leave the snug. On the way out, I signal to the bartender for a shot of something stiff, tossing it back the second I get it and handing him $100. I don’t ask for change. He hands me my gun.
The alley behind O’Riada’s is a narrow throat of brick and steam. White powder drifts down from the solid gray sky above. The river wind cuts through, sharp with salt and exhaust. I spot Bogdan’s silhouette as he waits beside the car, coat collar up, one hand tucked into his pocket. He’s not wearing his usual sunglasses, but his black beanie is pulled down so low, it nearly covers his eyes.
Moments later, I’m in the back of the car.
“Irish are out.”
He guns the engine, pulling us onto the road. “Just like that? She said those words?”
“Not quite. But she proved herself unreliable. And I’m not in the mood to play her games.”
The heater hums, fogging the windows. I have a good sense of what Bogdan’s thinking. And I don’t like it.
“You might have to tell him.”
The words hit like gunshots. “No.”
“It protects her. It might even stop this war before it starts.”
“Only to set up another one in the offing. Not a chance.”
Bogdan flicks on the wipers. They squeak across the windshield, leaving wet streaks of snow. “Peter won’t touch his own blood. Old codes still mean something, even to men like him.”
“That’s quite the bet to make. Could be that I tell him, he realizes he has another angle from which to attack. And he’ll pull her right into the middle of everything. Right now, at least she’s on the periphery of the war.”
“But if he finds out, and realizes you already knew…”
He makes a damn good point. I don’t even want to consider it. If she learned the truth, that would mean she’d learneverything. She’d learn how I’ve watched her, how I’ve tied her life to mine before she even knew my name. But if Peter learns before I tell her…
We stop at a red light, the heater clicking louder than it should.
“No. We hold our ground. Johan’s softened up, ready to sign on the dotted line. Number one priority is getting this merger in motion. The truth coming out at the wrong time could jeopardize everything.”
The light turns green. Bogdan pushes through the intersection. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I slip it out. It’s Johan.
Still reviewing. EOD tomorrow, we talk.
A good sign.
“Now this risks sounding dangerously close to me talking out of turn,” Bogdan says, “but telling her the truth could go a long way toward acclimating her to both her current situation and you.”
“That, or she heads over to the west wing, finds a gun she feels comfortable handling, and puts a couple of rounds in my head while I’m sleeping.”
“She’ll learn eventually,” Bogdan says. “Right now, you have control over when it happens. But that control won’t last forever. Just something to think about.”
Bogdan’s my most trusted advisor. And like any good advisor, he doesn’t shy away from difficult truths.
This is most certainly one of them. Gabriella’s the mother of my children. She’s not going anywhere. Or could she? An idea forms in my mind’s eye. I imagine setting up a trust with more money than she’d ever need, buying her an apartment in London or Paris—someplace far from here. I start a new life for her and the children, watching from afar and making sure they’re safe and provided for.
I wouldn’t be a part of their lives, but they’d besafe.
The idea quickly curdles. Perhaps it’s the most pragmatic plan. But it hurts to consider in a way I’ve never experienced before. The babies aren’t even in their second trimester, and already the idea of never seeing them, never holding them, is enough to make my heart feel like it’s being pricked by a thousand needles.
Ruth said I was getting sentimental. Maybe she’s right.
