I decided to make it easy for her.
"You want to know if I'm using him," I said.
Her eyebrows rose slightly. "Direct. I like that."
"I'm a psychologist. I spent years learning to see through deflection and misdirection. I'm not particularly good at employing them myself."
"That must make family dinners interesting. In your family, I mean." A pause. "Or maybe not. From what Rodion told me, you weren't close with your father."
"Rodion told you about my father?"
"Rodion told me the basics. Demyan filled in the rest. We have resources—I'm sure you've figured that out by now. The moment your name came up, we knew everything there was toknow about Keira O'Shea." She leaned forward slightly. "And Keira Walsh. And the twelve years in between."
I kept my expression neutral, but my heart was beating faster. They'd investigated me. Of course they had. I would have done the same in their position.
"Then you know I spent twelve years building a life that had nothing to do with my father's world," I said. "You know I changed my name, got my degrees, built a practice helping people. You know I had no contact with my family, no involvement in their business, no interest in anything they did."
"I know what the records show. Records can be falsified."
"Mine weren't."
"So you say."
"So the evidence supports." I held her gaze. "You can believe me or not. But I spent my entire adult life running from exactly the situation I'm in now. If I wanted to be involved with organized crime, I had plenty of opportunities. My father would have welcomed me back with open arms. Instead, I disappeared so thoroughly that it took them twelve years to find me."
"And yet here you are. About to marry into another crime family."
"Because the alternative is being handed to the Petrovics like a party favor." My voice came out harder than I intended. "Believe me, if I had another option—any other option—I would take it. But I don't. Your brother is offering me protection. I'm accepting it. That's the extent of our arrangement."
"Is it?"
I thought about last night, standing in the dark with Rodion, feeling the pull of something I couldn't name. I thoughtabout the way he'd looked at me when he said he wanted me. Not as a transaction. As something real.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I don't know what this is or what it's going to become. I don't know if I can trust your brother, or if he can trust me, or if either of us is making a terrible mistake." I exhaled slowly. "But I'm not using him. Whatever else you think of me, believe that much."
Nina was quiet for a long moment, her sharp eyes searching my face. I let her look. I had nothing to hide—at least, nothing relevant to what she was asking.
"My brother has spent his entire life performing," she said finally. "Smiling when he wanted to scream. Joking when he wanted to cry. Being the easy one, the fun one, the one who held everyone else together." She paused. "He's never let anyone see what's underneath. Not even us. Not fully."
"I know."
"But he let you see."
"Some of it. In our sessions."
"More than some." She stood, smoothing her skirt with a practiced gesture. "I've known my brother for thirty-two years. I've watched him charm his way through every situation, every relationship, every crisis. I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks when he talks about you."
I didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know what to feel.
"I'm not saying I trust you," Nina continued. "Trust is earned, not given. But I'm willing to give you a chance. For his sake, if not for yours." She met my eyes. "Don't make me regret it."
"I'll do my best."
"That's not a promise."
"No. It's not. But it's all I can offer right now."
She considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough." She moved toward the door, then stopped, looking back at me. "The dress he got you—you're not wearing it."
