I was tempted to text her back, but I didn’t want her to know we’d found Chloe Brown aka Chloe King.
How about you tell me what you know about Ivan being the second executor, hmm, Anya?
I slipped the phone in my pocket and picked up the firewood. It didn’t take a genius, really. Anya and Ivan had planned to keep the conditions of the trust a secret. I doubted they conspired with each other. They just waited for the other one to come forward.
Ivan approved of my match with Lucy. The Kings were powerful and wealthy beyond belief, but the combined influence of the De Luccis and Morettis couldn’t be denied. Ivan was in no rush. He was waiting for Maksim to divorce Ophelia. And if my brother never gave her a divorce? My mood soured further. Ivan better not think of using Aralina. And from what I gathered, Ivan had affection for Chloe and probably wouldn’t want her marrying a blackguard like me anyway.
Fucking Ivan. His life was one big fucking drama.
As for Anya, her motivations were simple. She didn’t want me even to consider Chloe as a wife. Except I blindsided her when I married Lucy.
Fuck me. My life was turning into one big soap opera too. At least none of Ivan’s wives had shot him.
But I didn’t want to deal with Anya. This weekend was about Lucy.
So when I stepped back into the cabin, I pushed the other woman out of my mind.
Lucy wasn’t around when I returned. The rug in the hallway was pulled aside, and the trapdoor to the cellar was open.
What the fuck. I’d been gone for two minutes. I dropped the firewood by the hearth and strode to the hole in the floor.
“Lucy.” She rushed back up the stairs. She had a phone to her ear and put a finger up to shush me.
Shushed me.
I crossed my arms.
“Sorry, lost signal,” she said to whoever was on the line. “The corner shelf you said? Okay. Thanks, Irina.”
“You called my mother?”
“Yes. Since we were going to get snowed in, I wanted to make sure we had provisions.”
“You do realize we’re not exactly out of pocket,” I said patiently. “The plows should come within twenty-four hours after the snow stops. If you’re impatient, I have someone who can do it.” In short, it was my job to take care of these concerns.
“I was thinking more about extra bedding.” She screwed her nose. “I don’t like that bear rug near the hearth.”
“Too barbaric?” My mouth twitched. “Again, you realize hunting is to control population and it’s a sustainable food resource.”
“Yes, but I don’t have to look at a dead animal’s fur.”
I shouldn’t even be surprised that she took that stance, but it wasn’t worth fighting over. “Fine, I’ll move it.”
“I’ve thrown the towels into the washing machine. Why don’t you get the fire started?”
“Yes, wife.” But I followed her back into the cellar to make sure there weren’t scuttling insects or rodents around. The cabin was well maintained because it was Irina’s favorite getaway. Several light bulbs lit the area, and I grinned when I spied Ivan’s liquor stash and strode directly to the shelf, picking out a rum and a vodka.
Lucy handed me a pile of shrink-wrapped bedding. “I’m going to lay that in front of the hearth.”
Cabin life was not new to me, but cabin life with a wife was a whole different scenario. I wasn’t annoyed; I would even say this peculiar emotion could be amusement wrapping itself around the desire to pamper my wife.
I worked to get the fire started. The snow was still falling heavily and it started getting dark.
“Look what I found!” Lucy exclaimed and dropped an unopened jigsaw puzzle on the table. “One thousand pieces to assemble Van Gogh’sStarry Night.”
I stared at it like a black hole about to eat up my time where I envisioned more pleasurable activities with Lucy. “It’s going to take forever to finish that.”
She gave theduhgesture. “As if we don’t have all the time in the world. I’d say three nights tops. Come on, husband, pretty please?” She batted her eyes and giggled.
