“There has been, since my father’s execution,” I say tersely as I take a sip of the whiskey. “But it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll bring them in line. It will merely take some time and the building of trust. I haven’t held my father’s seat for long.”
“And for some weeks of it, you were in Russia.” Viktor takes a sip of his vodka, settling into his own seat. “And now, I expect that you plan to go after Ana. Wherever that might take you. Is there no marriage arranged for you already?”
I tense, taking another deep slug of my drink. The whiskey heats me all the way down, a welcome burn, and a much-needed moment before I have to answer.
“There could be,” I say carefully, feeling Niall’s eyes on me. “She’ll be on my arm at the wedding tomorrow. Saoirse O’Sullivan. But nothing has been signed.”
“And you think to marry Ana instead of this girl, if you can find her?”
“I haven’t said that.” I finish the drink, and Viktor holds out his hand, getting up to refill it. “I don’t know what Ana’s feelings are for me.”
“You’re aware that the Kings would likely not accept her as your wife.” Luca glances at me, swirling the brandy in his glass. “She’s not—well. And she’s a former ballerina, no one of note—”
“That’s not exactly true.” Viktor hands me a second glass of whiskey. “The Ivanov family is well known in Russia—because Anastasia’s father was a traitor. A Bratva man who turned on his brothers and ratted to avoid a sentence in prison. His wife and daughter fled to the States, and he was hunted down and killed. Her name is dirt among the Bratva families, and I’m sure the Kings are aware of that too.”
“If her father was a Bratva traitor, what does that mean to me?” I shrug. “Her name will be McGregor, not Ivanova if I marry her. But like I said, marriage isn’t what’s on my mind at the moment. It’s finding her. Everything else can come later.”
It’s not strictly true, but it’s not a lie either. I’ve certainly thought of marrying Ana. I’m not the kind of man to keep a mistress, and to suggest something like that to her would be insulting. Neither is she the sort of woman I can see myself fucking for a little while and then getting out of my system. Anatasia Ivanova has been very firmlyinmy system since I saw her at Viktor’s safe house, and I haven’t been able to get her out of my thoughts. Knowing how near-unreachable she is hasn’t dimmed my desire for her, either.
If anything, it’s made it all the more obsessive. But that’s not something any man in this room needs to know.
“You’re leaving a power vacuum at a bad time if you go after her,” Luca cautions. “The power of the alliance that we’re all making relies on the leaders of it being here. Without you, it’s possible another might step up. O’Sullivan, perhaps, especially if he can make another match for his daughter.”
“If you’re insisting on going after Anastasia,” Viktor says thoughtfully, “it might be worth signing the betrothal before you go. That would help to solidify your position, at least. Frame it as a business trip that you’re going on, whatever you need to. But if the O’Sullivans have a betrothal contract, it will show good faith.”
I pause, taking another long drink of the whiskey. The idea of signing the contract sets my teeth on edge. It all but makes it impossible for me to marry Ana if such a possibility ever did exist, since breaking a contract withanyfamily, particularly one as well-connected as the O’Sullivans, would have serious consequences for my position at the head of the Kings.
It could go so far as to start a civil war among the Irish.
But I also know that Viktor is right.
Agreeing to marry Saoirse with pen to paper is a way to buy me time to find Ana without risking my position significantly more than I already have. It’s not the option I would choose, but mine are narrowing.
“When are you planning to set out to look for her?” Luca asks, finishing his brandy. “Sofia has been worried for her. Even if it’s not the wisest choice on your part, it will set her mind more at ease to know that you’re searching.”
“The morning after the wedding,” I say firmly. “I know that I can’t shirk my duty to appear tomorrow, nor would I want to miss it,” I add, glancing at Viktor. “But I won’t wait a moment longer after that.” I look at Max then, who is sitting pensively with his whiskey barely drank in his hand. “You handled yourself well in the fight at Alexei’s,” I tell him. “If you’d be willing to come with me, I could use the assistance.”
Max glances at me, surprised. “Certainly,” he says, with less hesitation than I’d expected. “I think some time away would be good for me, anyway.”
Likely has something to do with Sasha.I glance away from the former priest back to Viktor, watching the exchange blankly. “I’d also ask that I could borrow Levin, at least for a little while. You said earlier that you felt some guilt for what happened to Ana under your watch. If you’d like to do some penance for that, allowing me to take Levin with me would be helpful. His syndicate connections could come in handy.”
Viktor frowns. “I’ll need him soon to help with setting up my new business,” he says, considering. “The syndicate will be sending students for him to train soon. But I think I can spare him for a little while, at least. As you said, I bear some responsibility. I can’t go myself, but Levin will do well in my stead. I’ll let you know if I need him to return at any point.”
“Thank you.” I glance towards Levin. “I assume you’re fine with it?”
Levin nods. “I’m glad to help. I’ll reach out tonight and see what contacts I might be able to make useful.”
The conversation turns to other things then, Viktor refilling my glass and handing it back to me. But as I look into the fire, all I can see are blue eyes looking back at me, sweet and lost, eyes that I’d felt myself lost in too, that day in the garden.
I feel as if I’d do anything to find her. Anything to save her and bring her home, to make her whole again.
I just don’t know yet what that will require of me—or what I might have to sacrifice to do so.