“Not really.” She heaved a quiet sigh. “It’s not every day you see a Tarasov questioning his emotions.”
My brows drew together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Her lips curled into a small smile, and she tapped my shoulder. “Time will tell, Karik.”
I watched her walk away as if she hadn’t just meddled in something that was none of her business.
That’s when Ellie returned from the railing with a hint of shock flickering in her gaze. Did she hear any of that? I hoped not.
“You won’t believe who I just saw on the ground floor,” she said to me.
It wasn’t about my conversation with Winona. Good.
My silence was her cue.
“Lucas Bradford,” she said, as if I were supposed to know who that was. “Dr. Lucas Bradford.”
I stared blankly at her.
“He’s a panelist at my university—also a legal consultant for the state attorney’s office.” She paused. “What’s he doing here?”
I walked over to the railing. “Show me who this Bradford is.”
She joined me at the balcony.
“And please do not point at anyone.”
Her face twisted into a frown. “I’m not stupid.” She looked down at the ground floor below the railing. “There. He’s standing next to the man in the gray suit.”
I swirled the glass in my hand, a cocky smirk playing on my lips. She clearly had no idea who that was.
“Do you know who that is?” I asked her. “The man in the gray suit.”
She squinted, her head tilting slightly to the side. “Should I?”
“That’s Marco Stefano,” I said. “A collector for the Italian mob.”
Her head snapped toward me, brows raised in shock. “What?”
“He’s as dangerous as they come. Trust me.” I drained the rest of my champagne.
“I don’t…I don’t understand,” she stuttered. “He’s supposed to be one of the good ones. One of the people who uphold the law.” Another pause. “What’s he doing with the Italian Mafia?”
“Business.”
The disappointment in her gaze was mildly satisfying. Her manicured fingers tightened around the railing as she watched Bradford laugh at something Stefano had said.
“You asked why I brought you here. Here’s your answer,” I began. “It’s so you can see how the world truly works.”
She listened quietly, her gaze focused on the men chattering below.
“Justice is an illusion. The good guys are chameleons, shifting their colors to suit their interests.” I let the words sink in before adding, “The system you so blindly believe in is broken, corrupt from the inside out.”
She locked her jaw, her chest rising and falling with slow breaths. Ellie hadn’t yet absorbed what she’d just heard, but I wasn’t done opening her eyes.
“You see the man at the champagne table?” I said. “Navy suit. Gray at the temples.”
She traced my gaze.
