“We’re two of a kind, Kirill,” he said. “Anyway, I gotta go.”
“Go, then.”
“Enjoy your honeymoon.”
It wasn’t the honeymoon Lucy deserved, but I would take a quick vacation with my wife for now. After I ended the call, I made arrangements with Sergei, my man in the Bahamas, who was in charge of bratva business. He did everything from managing our offshore accounts to arranging the crew for the yacht.
I was about to call and have our plane spun up, but I wondered what time Lucy would prefer to leave. I’d like to get there by morning. But when I knocked on her door, she didn’t answer. Could she have moved her things to my room?
A pleasant feeling expanded in my chest. But it quickly deflated when I didn’t find my wife in my room either.
I descended the steps and stalked toward the kitchen. It was empty.
“Lucy,” I called.
I headed to the back of the mansion towards the servants’ quarters and ran into Sorcha.
“Did you see Lucy?”
The old woman frowned. “Isn’t she in your study?”
Bile rose in my throat as a conclusion started to form and pieces of my phone call with Kolya started a playback in my head.
“No. Why do you say that?”
“She noticed the plant was missing in the foyer, and I said you decided it’s perfect for your study after all.”
Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
And knowing my wife’s propensity for eavesdropping, Lucy had heard my side of the conversation with Kolya.
She thought I was taking her on vacation to kill her.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Lucy
That bastard.
That rat-stinking bastard.
How could I have fallen for his lies?
Again.
I drove like a madwoman on the street behind the mansion. I hadn’t used my car in a long time, but it was parked in a secondary garage in the back of the property that exited onto a rarely used street. Thank God Sato wasn’t around. I was lucky there seemed to be a big job tonight; there were fewer bratva loitering around. I was surprised my gate remote worked, but I was sure it alerted whoever was monitoring the CCTV around the property.
I was fighting back tears and the hurt that threatened to cave in my chest. I’d given myself permission to explore a life of domesticated bliss, but it didn’t last long, did it? Not when I was married to a man who always hated me.
I had been in the midst of packing, so I was all ready to go. In my purse, I dumped the burner Trevor handed me, and my.38 revolver. I left behind my phone with the number I’d had for most of my adult life.
I needed to ditch this vehicle. I didn’t have time to check for trackers. I mounted my burner and called Trevor. It went to voicemail.
Shit!
I called again.
