Page 30 of Every Last Breath

The words slapped Cole dumbstruck.

Ilya’s jaw tightened. “I never thought you working on that hoity-toity master’s degree would stick. You’d never be an architect. I knew that whole fantasy life you dreamt of would fade away eventually, because I see who you really are. Deep down, you’re just like Papa.”

The stone-cold tongue of fear licked Cole’s spine, and he let his brother go. There was something terrible prowling inside Cole and he fought to keep the darkness in check, but he wasn’t a monster.

“You’re one of us.” Ilya wiped blood from his mouth. “But when she came along, I knew I’d lose you. To the suburbs and your fantasy of a legit life. And then I lost you anyway.”

What Ilya said made sense, in a twisted way. He had seen her as a threat, as the one thing that could truly sever Cole’s connection to the family, but it didn’t justify his grotesque behavior.

Turning his back on his brother, Cole crossed the room. He’d never told Ilya the raid had been Maddox’s fault. Even in the middle of the shitstorm she’d caused, he’d protected her.

Vitali came in, carrying a tray of coffee. He set it down on the glass table in the center of the room and left in stubborn silence.

Adjusting his robe, Ilya smoothed down the shiny fabric.

“Why the fuck are you wearing stars?” Cole raked his hair back with both hands. “You swore you were done. You looked me in the eye and gave me your word. Instead, you became one of the most notorious arms dealers on the Eastern Seaboard.”

Ilya shrugged. “With you and Papa dead, the big dogs back in Russia were willing to forego further retribution, but the other three families getting busted put a major crimp in the cash flow. I had to step up and bring big money in or be put down six feet under.”

The ripples of Maddox’s mistake had killed the possibility of Ilya going legit. But he had accepted the role with too much zeal to make Cole believe this lifestyle was an unwelcome burden.

“Who would’ve guessed you’d be an overachiever,” Cole said.

Ilya laughed, picking up a cup of coffee, and wandered toward the glass doors.

The itch to leave niggled under Cole’s skin. “Look, I’m not here to rehash history or give you a hard time about the choices you’ve made.” Not today, anyway. “I need a favor.” He followed his brother toward the back of the room. “I’m here because of the auction tomorrow. I want your passcode. I need you to step aside in this.”

Ilya froze, facing the doors overlooking the pool. Slowly, he pivoted on a velvet-slippered heel, brows knitting. “How the fuck do you know about that?”

“How doesn’t matter. I know. You’re going to leave it at that, because I’m your blood.”

Ilya eyed him hard, like he wanted to reach into Cole’s head and rip out his thoughts. “When did this become your field of interest? Whatever I spend at the auction, I can make up threefold on the open black market. I already have a buyer lined up. Why should I do this?”

“Because I’ve asked it. Because you owe me.”

Ilya stared at him for a long, long time.

All traces of the brother Cole knew faded away in that look, leaving the true face of the cold-blooded gangster Ilya had become. Ilya’s gaze fell as he drifted to the chairs by the door with a view of the bay, sipping his coffee. “Vitali!” He sat in a high-backed lounge chair and propped an ankle on his knee. “Bring me the envelope that came by messenger.”

Cole strode to his brother and leaned a shoulder against the glass wall. The plants providing the only cover were on the other end of the room, probably to give an unobstructed view of the water from this part of the solarium.

He rubbed the back of his head at the unease crawling over him, and his gaze veered toward the woods.

As crazy as it seemed, he couldn’t shake the sense they were being watched. Confronting his past demons must be frying his instincts.

“You should stay and wind bathe with me,” Ilya said, referring to walking around outside naked. A practice of cleansing the pores, passed down from their father. “Nothing like the air licking your balls in the morning. Other than tea-bagging the mouth of a pretty young thing.” He cackled.

The prickle along Cole’s skin had him turning to stare back outside. “Can’t. I have to go.”

Vitali came in, carrying a five-by-seven envelope. He handed it to Ilya and cut his eyes at Cole before disappearing down the hall.

“This makes us even, bratik,” Ilya said. “My life debt to you is paid.”

They’d never be even, not in this lifetime, and Ilya would never understand why.

Surveying the grounds, Cole stood upright. “Thank you for the passcode.”

“It’s not a passcode.”