“Are we having dinner, then?” I try to sound lighthearted as I sit down, but both of them see the expression on my face.
“A man’s gotta eat,” Levin says, picking up a piece of crostini from the plate. “I’d prefer something a bit more hearty myself, but I suppose this will do.”
“Do?” Max makes a face. “This is probably the best smoked salmon I’ve ever had.” He looks at me, a mischievous smirk on his face. “Liam, if you ever have any other missions for us to go on where you’re the one paying for food and lodging, I’m more than willing to offer up my services.”
“Don’t priests take a vow of poverty?” Liam narrows his eyes at Max. “I know a good deal about you, you know, what with you being under Viktor’s protection—”
“Then you’d know I’m no longer under the vows of the church,” Max says, raising an eyebrow and taking another bite of his appetizer. “I’ll have another glass of whiskey, Liam, if you’re ordering a drink.”
I can tell that they’re trying to lighten the mood as much as I am, but the girl upstairs is on the minds of all three of us, not to mention the man I left bleeding on a dining room floor back in Paris.
The waitress comes over to our table, and I order two more whiskeys, one for myself and one for Max, but decline her offer to put in a food order for me. I can’t summon up an appetite—all of the problems that I’d managed to put to the back of my mind when I was with Ana earlier have come rushing back, reminding me of just how difficult the path ahead of me is likely to be.
“Are you going to fill us in on what happened inside that apartment?” Levin asks finally, his voice deep and slightly suspicious. I can’t blame him—it’s his contacts that largely made Ana’s rescue possible, and I’m sure any blowback is likely to fall on him. He’d taken a huge risk, going to his old boss and current business partner with Viktor, and I’m not insensible of that.
It also highlights how foolish I was to go in on my own once again.
I’m hesitant to tell them everything. But I also know that it’s not wise to hold back information. These two men have stuck by me, crossed countries, and put themselves at considerable risk to help me find Ana. I owe them the full story.
And so, over our drinks, I tell them both what happened—every bit of it, from the moment I walked into Alexandre’s apartment until the moment I left, Ana’s drugged body in my arms and Alexandre’s on his floor.
“He didwhat?” Max stares at me, aghast. “And the woman—Christ.” He swears under his breath, and Levin glances at him before looking back at me.
“I was afraid that something like that might happen if you went in alone.” He catches the expression on my face and lets out a sigh. “Notexactlylike that, of course—I wouldn’t have expected something so deranged. That Frenchman is twisted, that’s for certain. But I did say you needed backup—”
“I know.” I rub a hand over my face, feeling suddenly, deeply exhausted. “What happened was my fault. My own foolish, prideful fault.” I glance at Max, half-expecting him to have something to say about that, but he stays silent, his face tight and drawn.
“And what now?” Levin leans back. “You say you’re not sure if he’s dead or alive. Do you think he’ll come after her?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I can’t imagine that he would take the loss of a hundred-million-dollar asset lightly—but then again, she was only worth that tohim. And perhaps—” I swallow hard, hating the words even as they come out of my mouth. “Perhaps she isn’t worth that to him anymore.”
“Because you fucked her—”
“And she enjoyed it. Yes. Her betrayal might have made her lose any value in his eyes.” I shrug, taking another slug of my whiskey. “It’s hard to know how a man like him thinks.”
“Don’t underestimate a man who feels betrayed.” Levin finishes his vodka, motioning to the waitress to bring him another. “You’d be unwise to assume that he’s finished with her. But she’ll be going back to New York, right? Not your concern any longer. Probably Luca’s, I imagine—”
“She’ll be coming back to Boston with me,” I finish my whiskey too. “She felt bad, imposing on Luca and Sofia with Sofia’s pregnancy, and I don’t think she and Luca are all that close. I offered to let her stay at my apartment in Boston with me until she gets back on her feet.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Max looks at me concernedly. “As traumatized as you’d heard she was before, she must be doubly—even triply so now. And Alexandre used you as the instrument of that. Do you think her living with you is a wise idea, under the circumstances?”
“I think she needs someone to watch over her,” I say firmly. “She needs a protector. Who is going to do that for her? Luca? Viktor? They have their own families, their own concerns.”
“You have other concerns, too,” Levin reminds me. “One named Saoirse, if I recall.”
I glare at him, letting him see the irritation written plainly on my face. “Are you my right hand or Viktor’s?”
Levin shrugs, taking his fresh glass of vodka from the waitress. “Just saying, Liam. I don’t have a dog in this fight, which is perhaps why you should listen to what I have to say. From what you say, this woman is broken enough that she thought—maybe still thinks—she’s in love with a man who bought her and that he’s in love with her as well. A woman you were forced to fuck. Alexandre violated you both.”
“That kind of trauma isn’t easy to overcome,” Max interjects. “It might be wise to let her go home, Liam. Back to familiar family and friends. I know you want her, but—”
“This isn’t about that,” I insist. “She has no family, and only a couple of friends, both of whom are dealing with their own families and their own trauma. She needs a protector.”
“Only a few days ago, you said she needed a savior,” Max points out. “And how did that turn out for you both, Liam?”
My jaw tightens, and he shrugs, sitting back and taking another sip of his whiskey. “Caution from a friend, that’s all,” Max says.
“Are we friends now?” I hear the edge to my words, but Max doesn’t seem to take it poorly.