"It's fine, Pyotr," Katerina cuts him off. "Go ahead. I'll handle this."
Reluctantly, he leaves.
Smart man.
I have no interest in the politics between my family and the Bratva, which means I have no reason to maintain the status quo.
I have no qualms about eliminating Pyotr or anyone who gets in my way.
"Seven years of silence and now you demand conversation?" She tries to step around me, but I mirror her movement. "Get out of my way."
"Why are you so angry?" I keep my voice low, intimate. "If anyone should be furious, it's me. I come home to find everyone treating me like I'm radioactive, including you."
Her laugh is bitter, something I’ve never heard from her before. I wonder what life has been like for her that she’d have developed it, along with her cool demeanor.
"You want to know why I'm angry? You disappeared without a word. No goodbye, no explanation."
"I had my reasons."
"And I'm sure they were excellent ones." The sarcasm drips from her words. "Very noble. Very Dante. Did they keep you warm at night in Chicago while you were building your empire?"
Her knowledge about my life surprises me. She's been keeping tabs. That’s a good sign, right?
"You think I wanted to leave?"
"I think what you want has always mattered more than what anyone else needs."
I see a flash of raw hurt beneath her armor. For a moment, she's the girl I left behind, wounded and bewildered.
But then, with a shake of her head, her ice queen mask slips back in pace. "Why does it matter now? You'll be gone again as soon as whatever brought you back is resolved." She adjusts her purse strap, and I wonder if she wants to clobber me with it. "Some things don't change, Luca. Including you."
"You don't know a damn thing about who I am now."
"And whose fault is that? Seven years is a long time. People change. They move on. They build new lives."
Something in her tone makes my instincts flare. There's more she isn't saying.
Is she married?
Surely, Valentina would have mentioned that.
“What new life do you have?”
“You gave up your right to know about my life when you walked out of it.” It’s getting harder for her to hide the pain, and guilt starts to grow again. “And I have no doubt that when this funeral is done, you’ll be gone again, so I’m not sure why you’re doing this.”
"Look at me." I step closer, lowering my voice. "I’m not leaving. Not yet. Someone sent for me, and I'm not leaving until I find out who and why."
Her eyes widen slightly. "And you think I know something about that?"
"I think you know more than you're saying about everything." I resist the urge to touch her face, to trace the curve of her cheekbone with my thumb like I used to. "But right now, I just want you to know I'm staying. I have unfinished business here."
"With your family?"
"With everyone." I let the implication hang between us, but she doesn’t crack.
Frustration burns through me as she maintains that cool façade.
She's looking at me like I'm a stranger when she once knew every secret, every scar, every dream I had.
