Spades has no time to react.
Julij has no time to see my outrage coming.
It happens in a flash.
I lunge forward, grab him by the collar of his immaculate blue shirt, and smack his head against the window. “Layla’smine.She only sleeps with me.”
I don’t have to throw it out there, but in a way, I’m marking my territory. I’ve warned Julij not once and not twice. He should’ve listened instead of disrespecting my girl. There’s no way in heaven or hell I’ll let anyone say or suggest anything derogatory about her.
“That’s strike one, Julij,” Spades clips behind my back. “Do yourself a favor and keep your big mouth shut.”
I feel his hand on my arm, pulling me back, and reluctantly let go of a wide-eyed Julij, who adjusts his shirt, eyes shooting daggers my way. This probably isn’t how he imagined our business partnership. To date, all he gets out of our arrangement is a kicking. His patience is probably wearing thin by now. Too bad for him; the cards are in my hand. All he can do is nod along.
“It was your idea to send her over there. You supposedly trust Anatolij, and now you say he’d hurt her? Bullshit. You’re in love, you’re jealous, and you’re getting on my nerves.” I growl, staring him down, waiting for one false move, one more foul word out of his mouth.
It’d justify manslaughter.
At least in my eyes, it would. I’m on the verge of overloading. Julij might not want to give me a reason to use him as an outlet for my emotions. There’s one thing that’d erase his feelings in a blink of an eye. One piece of information that’d turn his world upside down. He’d stop dreaming about Layla, fast.
I’m running out of reasons not to tell him. I want to see his face when he finds out. I want to see the sliver of hope he has for a relationship with my girl die a tragic death, but Ican’ttell him. Not yet. Not while Layla remains oblivious.
Fifteen minutes later, without another shitstorm, we arrive at the hotel. Julij, slightly pissed off and still sulking, storms toward the elevators, leaving me in the lobby with Spades.
“Why do you put up with it? You don’t need him, Dante. You don’t need Nikolaj’s affiliates. We’ve been doing fine by ourselves. Cut him loose.”
Yes, we have been doing fine. We sure don’t need Julij, but in the face of the newly discovered information, I know he’ll be a part of my life forever, no matter how I feel about it.
“He’s not going anywhere. Keeping him close means turning a decent profit. How’s Jackson doing with Morte?”
“No news yet.” He slips a hundred in the waiter’s pocket, earning us a far-removed table where areservedplaque sits in the middle but is promptly taken away. “He’ll find him. He just needs time, Dante.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Mauricio’s words bounce around my head as I skim over the menu.Find something to blackmail him with.”Knowing Morte’s way of thinking and the effort he put into being untouchable, I didn’t think twice about the reference to Sandra he slipped into our chat over the phone.
Maybe I should’ve.
She’s the only woman he ever loved, the only one to break his heart. He lost a piece of his fucking soul when she left, which makes me wonder... Layla stabbed me in the back, but I forgave her. Even if I left her alone, finding out a few years later that she’s in danger, I wouldn’t turn a blind eye. Feelings don’t go away. True love lingers at the back of our minds, hearts, and souls, numbed, suppressed, but always there, a bitter-sweet aftertaste of better times.
“Change of plans,” I tell Spades, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “Forget Morte. We’re looking for Sandra now.”
“Sandra?”
“She’s to Morte what Layla is to me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Layla
“I’m sorry I’m late. Dante called.” I join Anatolij in the dining room for breakfast.
“You’re not at school, Layla. No need to apologize. Is everything alright?”
Who knows? Dante sure didn’t sound alright...
As if it’s not hard enough to be kept away from home, now I won’t even hear his voice for God knows for how long. Anatolij’s castle feels more like a prison every day. Even the ballet sessions no longer lift my mood. The weather outside the window doesn’t help; a cold, snowy, beautiful picture keeps me inside because a short walk is enough to give me frostbite.
Last night, a raging blizzard kept me awake until the early hours. The wind played a haunting melody, slamming against the old, wooden windows as it raged outside while I lay in bed, watching the snow swirl in the air. Lack of sleep isn’t helping me look at the bright side of things. Whatever that might be.