“My business. I don’t have to tell you where I am and what I’m doing all the time just because we’re married. This arrangement is only to keep the peace. But it doesn’t mean you get to keep tabs.”
Jenica lets out a high-pitched, bird-esque laugh at that. “You call this peace? Your family is walking around with not one, but two chips on their shoulders, even though Maverick is alive and well. All the while, Tristan is lurking in the shadows ready to pounce at any moment with little to no regard for our so-called peace arrangement.”
I suck my teeth. Losing my temper on her would not be smart, but fuck if she isn’t making it hard to keep the peace she scorns so much. “Maybe you should get your nose out of my business and channel that energy into dealing with your own family, for once.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that, if you know anything about where Tristan is or what he’s doing, you need to call him off. Maybe talk some sense into him and remind him that you and I being married means he has to stay in his own lane.”
Jenica narrows her eyes with a sour smirk. “We’re talking about Tristan here. He doesn’t give a fuck about truces and lanes and family. He cares about power and revenge.”
“And what do you care about?” I ask. “If the family you are expected to be loyal to is a team you don’t want to play for, then why do you care at all?”
“Oh, right. Because leaving this family is a choice I can make.”
I have nothing more to say to her. I’m entirely aware that the situation is not ideal. Turning thirty crowned mepakhan,but I needed the position before that. It’s the sole reason I signed the papers. And if I had to guess, Tristan’s disappearance motivated Jenica to sign. She was afraid. Everyone in the Chadovich family with more than one brain cell was. And rightfully so. Because ifanything can be said about Tristan, it’s that he’s not sane. He’s unreasonable. Unhinged. Power-hungry.
My phone buzzes. I check the text before heading back to the front door.
“Where are you going now?” she snaps.
“A meeting,” I answer.
“At night?”
That response actually makes me snigger. “Are you new here?”
“So let me get this straight,” Maverick says from across the table at the lounge. I had enough of the third degree at home, and since I can’t go back to my other home without transforming into a sex-hungry fiend, I decided to meet up with Mav and Baron for a cold one.
“You went to Montana. Somehow convinced Amara to agree to a paternity test. Then convinced her even further to come back with you. And now, she’s living at your estate while you live at your other estate with your wife.”
“Yep,” I say. Why am I suddenly regretting the decision to go out with the boys?
“So sexy-as-fuck baby mama behind door number one. Also sexy-as-fuck wife behind door number two. Is there a door number three?” Maverick laughs.
And that right there is the reason I am regretting it.
“Yeah, there is, and behind it is my fist,” Baron says. “The man just got back from halfway across the country. He’s looking for support, not jokes.”
I shake my head. Mav offers a half-assed apology. “My bad. It does sound like a pretty stressful situation. So what are you going to do?”
“Well, I can’t leave Jenica. It’s the only thing keeping the peace on the streets right now. Tristan may be M.I.A. but everyone else has more or less stayed in line. But Amara is in fact pregnant with my child. My son. He’s a Rozanov. I can’t ignore either situation.”
“True,” Baron says as he nurses his beer. “So what’s your plan of action then?”
I turn my glass on the table, my eyes squinting as I think about it. If I’m being honest, I have no idea. It’s a tricky tightrope I’m on. One hanging over a crocodile-filled moat. If I slip either way, it’s over.
“I am going to say one thing,” Maverick says, as if he ever shuts the fuck up. “Girls might turn us upside down and inside out. But family has to come first. And in our case, Bratva is family.”
“Meaning Jenica and the truce should be the priority?” Baron asks. “That baby is also family. The legacy of the family.”
“Well, that settles it,” Maverick says as he pounds the rest of his beer. “You’re fucked either way.”
“Jesus.” Baron shakes his head.
But I just keep staring at my glass, my expression hard. “It’s just a balancing act, that’s all.”
And while it truly is a fucking mess, I have always been good at juggling. This isn’t going to be any different. I can handle being married to one woman and caring for another. My arrangement with Jenica is just that—an arrangement to avoid bloodshed while I figure out where Tristan is hiding.
