Page 87 of Ivory Oath

“It’s called a relationship. Marriage. You should try it.”

His face darkens. He did try it. For the first time in his life, Anatoly was a one-woman kind of man.

Then he found that one woman dead in our garage.

I’m being an asshole bringing it up, but I told him to leave. Twice. He has only himself to blame…

Right?

“I’ve seen you and Viviana together long enough to know what your relationship looks like. Usually, I can’t be in the same room with you without getting nauseous. But it was icy back there. She looked upset.”

“Probably because she is.” I shrug. “So am I. It happens.”

He groans. “Care to elaborate? It’s hard to be your confidant when you don’t tell me anything.”

“You aren’t my confidant.”

“You’re right. I’m your brother. It’s an even deeper bond.”

I snort. “Ask Trofim how he feels about that. The next time I see him, I plan to kill him. What kind of bond is that?”

“Don’t lump me in with Trofim,” he snaps. “Don’t sit here and lash out at me because you fucked things up.”

My molars grind together. “I didn’t fuck anything up.”

“You’re pissed with Viviana about something, so you threw yourself into a fight with the Greeks and killed someone we had no plans to kill. Now, you’re walling yourself off in your room. I’d say you fucked several things up, man.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Anatoly.” I point to the door. “Leave me alone.”

“Once again, no. I left you alone before. Maybe you don’t remember because you were drinking yourself into the ground, but we’ve done this whole shebang already.” He circles a finger at me and the glass I’m crushing in my fist. “You drank and worked out until you couldn’t stand. I understand what you were going through, so I let you grieve. But we don’t have time for this now.”

“I’ve managed this Bratva long enough on my own. I can manage myself.”

“You’re being reckless,” he spits, “and I deserve to understand why.”

“You don’t deserve a fucking thing from me!” I roar. The anger hits me sideways, rising up from the place it’s been hiding all day. Simmering. Waiting. I fling my glass against the wall and jab a finger at my brother. “My personal life isn’t your fucking business. If you aren’t here to talk about work, then get the hell out of my office.”

Anatoly sits tall, shock flickering across his face as he takes in my shaking finger and the alcohol dripping down the wall.

He runs his tongue over his teeth and I wait for some quippy remark. Some perfect Anatoly-ism that will cut through the tension—through the dark cloud that has been this shitty day.

Instead, for the first and probably the last time in his life, he does exactly what I ask.

He simply leaves.

37

VIVIANA

“Why can’t Daddy be here, too?” Dante whines. It’s been his constant refrain since we left the house an hour ago.

I thought he was having a good time at the park, so the reminder that we’re here without Mikhail takes me by surprise. I have to turn away quickly so I don’t turn into a sobbing mess in front of all the other parents at the park.

“Your dad is busy today,” Anatoly chimes in easily. “Hey, go climb the rock wall over there and I’ll take a picture of you and send it to him.”

“Okay!” Dante chirps back.

As soon as Dante is out of earshot, Anatoly drops down onto the bench next to me. “He’s busy being a grouchy asshole.”

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