A tiny voice asks if I’d give up Adrian for that. Because if I hadn’t gone to that party, I’d have never met him. It’s not a reality I want to consider, so I choose to ignore the voice and focus on Andrea. “You should tell him. He hates that you got hurt because of him, and he needs to feel in control.”
She jabs her fork into the salad again. This time, the tines scratch against the bottom of the bowl. “No. It’s not his fault, and he doesn’t get to diminish the role I do on our team because he needs vengeance. He’s not the one who got hurt. I am. So it’s my revenge to take, not his.”
I love the stone-sharpened edge to her voice. Since we started talking, it’s gotten stronger, bolder, like the Andrea I remember from before. She can get that woman back again, or she can turn the battered woman into someone even better.
If anyone can get past this and move on with her life, it’s Andrea. Especially if she lets her twin help her. But I don’t mention it, not when she’s only just started opening up to me.
After a long silence, she lets her fork fall into her empty bowl and shoves it across the granite. “Can I ask you something now since you are all up in my business?”
I swallow hard, my food rolling around in my belly uncomfortably. “I think so. But I reserve the right to walk out if I can’t answer it.”
She tilts her head like fair enough. “Why did you run? We all thought you were happy here.”
Involuntarily, I slide my hand across my lower belly, letting my fingers splay low. It’s not as if I can feel the baby yet or even a bump at the sign of him, but it comforts me all the same.
Her eyes dip down to my hand and then flash back up to my face. “Oh, I see. Does he know?”
I shake my head once, tucking my chin.
She hops off the stool, puts her bowl in the sink, and ambles toward the door. “Tell him soon, or he’ll take it as another secret between you. And none of us will survive another fallout.”
45
ADRIAN
I button my jacket and run my hand through my hair one more time. Despite my attempt, I know I look sloppier than I ever have walking through these doors. This is business, and I never let my personal life impede my business.
It doesn’t matter, though, since my office has an en suite bathroom, and I keep a few changes of clothes stashed here in case I need to spend the night. At one point, I’d kept a room here, but the security is harder to control with so many people coming in and out every day.
Kai follows me through the locked door down the long corridor that leads to the fighting ring and into the offices I keep there for myself and my men to use as needed. The casino usually runs itself, requiring minimal oversight from me. Kai keeps things going as needed with help from Michail when necessary.
I enter my office, and Kai closes the door behind him. “I thought you could use some work. A few things have piled up. Maybe you can take care of them, and I can take a break for once.”
I snort and remove my jacket and my shirt. First, a shower and shave. Once I feel more like myself, maybe a solution will come to mind. Even if it’s a pretty fantasy… there are no solutions to your wife having taken part in your mother’s murder.
Kai throws his long frame into the chair opposite the desk and pulls a few files to the edge. “I’ll be here when you’re done cleaning up,” he says, already absorbed in whatever he’s reading.
I scan the cuts and bruises on his face, and a fresh wave of guilt chomps through my gut. He’s always here for me, even when I forget myself and beat him for his loyalty. But I can’t apologize. I don’t apologize.
The guilt feels heavier by the second. I head into the bathroom, finish stripping, and quickly shower. I took one with Valentina, but at the time, I didn’t finish taking care of my usual needs. Especially cleaning up some of the stubble on my chin.
The orgasm I’d had, marking her with my cum, hadn’t been satisfying in the least. It had felt more like a punishment than a pleasure. I consider taking myself in hand, but I don’t want to leave Kai out there waiting while I beat off. And besides, fantasies of Valentina fill my head, but I don’t feel comfortable with them, not while things are broken between us.
What’s worse is, I don’t know if they can ever be mended, not after what she revealed and what I’ve done to keep her safe. The council has me in their crosshairs; the bullet is loaded, and they are simply waiting for the final breath before they pull the trigger. When they take a shot, they usually hit the mark dead on.