She straightens her back and huffs while lifting her teacup to her lips. The loud slurp that follows makes me chuckle.
“Don’t laugh,” she warns dramatically. A hint of humor lingers in her voice even as her features exude aggravation. “You’re in deep, Pasha. And I know what you’re thinking.”
Another sigh. Another sip.Hold the tea. I’ll take the vodka neat.
I swipe the bottle from the table, unscrew the cap, and hold her gaze while pouring a generous serving into my teacup. Only when the liquid sloshes over the edge a bit do I bother to set the bottle aside.
When I lift the cup, her mirthful gaze follows the movement. “Thirsty?”
“You have no idea.”
“Tell me what’s going on, Pasha.”
“I’m sure you know what’s going on.”
“Yes, I heard.” She sets her saucer down. “Congratulations on the engagement.”
“Do you mean that?”
She fixes me with a hurt expression. “Of course I do, you gigantic moron. I love that you’re finally settling down.”
“It’s less about settling down and more about…”
I trail off when Stepan returns with dry clothes. He eyes me carefully as he hands me the garments and then drifts into the foyer. If he thinks I don’t see his knowing grin, then he’s sorely mistaken.
Christ, is Karina going to say the same damn thing, too?
After I excuse myself, I change in the hallway bathroom, relaxing into the warm, dry pants that fit me like a glove. Rolling the socks on next feels like a dream. The vodka is probably helping with that, too.
The silence of the living room feels oppressive when I return. Her expectant expression fills me with dread. Right—I have to talk about Liya.Again.
“From what I hear, she’s a sweet girl,” my sister says. “Is she sweet, Pasha?”
Sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted. I blink away the thought and reply, “Sure.”
“You sound distracted.”
“I don’t know, Karina. She’s fit for the job. Is that what you want to hear?”
She grins. “You’re worried about her.”
“No, I’m worried aboutmyself. Her brother is a dumbass who thinks he’s going to be handed the Citta Nostra. After I fighthiswar. I don’t know what to do with him when it’s all over.”
“All this stress and frustration comes from you obsessing over the Bratva,” she says. “And you wonder why you’re alone. You always conveniently forget.”
The cup clatters in the saucer when I set it down. Forget the damn vodka. I need something much stronger. Something that won’t have a hard rebound but that will put me to sleep for two weeks.
I need the rest. Desperately.
“Karina Sergeyevna,” I say firmly. “Don’t start.”
She arches her brows. “Oh, so youdoremember?”
“We’ve been over this. I’m committed to the Bratva because I have to be.”
“But you’ve let it take over your entire life.”
I grip my knee to control my anger. Not like it matters. I’ll probably blow my lid if I don’t get tranquilized soon. Ketamine—now that would kick it right now.Give me the same shit they give elephants in the wild. “Yeah, that’s how this works.”