“It is.” My chest swelled with pride, and if I were honest with myself then, she impressed me, too. “Lucy married me to prevent a war. I married her for revenge, for the opportunity to torment her. You know the history.”
Both men cut me down with their venomous stares.
“We could have protected her,” De Lucci snarled.
“And be at war with Moscow?”
“You had the power to bury this!” he snapped.
It was Moretti who interjected with an unexpected derisive chuckle. “Zahkarov doesn’t owe us anything. I wouldn’t have expected anything less. We’re mafia first, not Boy Scouts. He saw the marriage as leverage to prop up the bratva when faced with a takeover from Moscow.”
De Lucci glared at his uncle.
“But I also know Peter wouldn’t retaliate this way,” Moretti added, unperturbed that De Lucci was looking like he might toss his own uncle over the rooftop. “It’s sloppy and too public.”
“False flag?” De Lucci offered after realizing he was three to one in his outrage.
“King showing up and warning us is too coincidental,” I said. “But it’s in his best interest that I stay married to Lucy because of the existence of the trust. The only way he could control it is if he marries Aralina.”
“How about your mistress?” Moretti asked sarcastically.
“If you’re referring to Anya, she was never my mistress.”
“Yet you abandoned my niece on your wedding night.”
“My actions at the beginning of the marriage were deplorable, but this isn’t the time to get into it.”
That shut them down. I wasn’t going to analyze how despicable my behavior had been in the beginning of mymarriage with anyone else except Lucy. Not even Kolya would get to see that side of me.
Only my wife.
De Lucci received a buzz on his phone. “That’s Trevor. He’s identified one of the perpetrators.”
Fucking Trevor again was determined to be the hero. But I set my jealousy aside because finding the bastards who attacked my wife was the priority.
“Does he have a location?”
Chapter
Thirty-Four
Kirill
It had been four days.I stayed by my wife’s side each day, willing her to wake up. As much as I was gung-ho to hunt down the fuckers who did this to her, I was finding out I didn’t want to leave her side for a second. Irina had to kick me out of the ICU several times to take a shower and eat. But I could barely stomach anything while Lucy’s sustenance was coming from a feeding tube.
Moretti and De Lucci told me they were going to let me know when they had the perpetrators in hand. They finally tracked down those fuckers and were just biding their time to round them up. To see if they were in contact with anyone we knew and lead us to the mastermind.
The door to the room opened, and Doctor Ripley walked in. He was the neurosurgeon who operated on Lucy, and he’d been closely monitoring her progress.
“Mr. Zahkarov.”
“Doctor.” My hand reached for Lucy’s and clasped it as though she was giving me the support.
“I’ve reviewed Lucy’s latest scans.”
I thought I was the master of the poker face, but I couldn’t read anything in the doctor’s bland expression.
“And?”
