Page 13 of Emerald Malice

But an hour later, I spy Viktor skulking in the corner with a bottle of gin in hand and I decide that I won’t let him evade me any longer.

I corner him by the wall frescoes and pluck the bottle from his hand.

“A little early in the marriage to be driven to drink.”

He rolls his eyes, though they seem to each go in different directions. “Be thankful I wasn’t drunk for the actual ceremony. That’s when I really needed a bottle.”

“You gonna tell me what that was about?”

His gaze is fixed on the bottle I’ve just confiscated from him. “I’ll tell you if you hand over the gin.”

I skewer him with a glare that makes him shrink back against the wall. “What makes you think this is a negotiation?”

He coughs nervously. “It’s not my fault, okay?”

“It never is. Answer the question.”

“The blonde’s name is Katya,” he says with a weary, simpering sigh. “She’s no one. Just this chick I fucked for a few weeks… or, shit, maybe it was months… I can’t remember now. She’s just sore because I dumped her ass.”

“And the brunette?”

“The who?” He shrugs as my pulse quickens. “Oh. Nat something. Natalia something? Natalie? I can’t remember. She’s Katya’s friend, as far as I know. And she can’t be pregnant with my kid because I never fucked her. Although, trust me, I tried. Even suggested the idea of a threesome to Katya, but she turned me down flat. Didn’t even?—”

“Enough,” I spit, glaring at my brother in disgust. “God, you are fucking pathetic.”

He draws himself up to his full height, though he’s a little wobbly on his feet. “This is who I am. It’s who I’ve always been.” Then he slumps and casts his eye miserably around at the glittering festivities that have been arranged in his honor. “I never wanted any of this.”

“You should have thought of that before you set your sights on Mila Obnizov.”

“I didn’t set my sights on her—I just wanted to fuck her. There’s a difference.”

“You ‘just wanted to fuck’ my top smuggler’s daughter, Viktor? What were you thinking? Do you not see how that is problematic?”

“She was a virgin, bro,” he says, as though that’s all the explanation required. “Do you know how rare it is to find one these days? It’s a fucking unicorn in a sea full of donkeys. I had to have her. Just once.”

“And now, you get her for a lifetime. Pozdravleniya.”

“The fuck wasn’t even worth it. Some unicorns just aren’t worth riding.” His gaze veers over to his new wife, who’s sitting alone at the head table looking like she wishes she were anywhere else.

“Have you talked to Obnizov?”

Viktor nods. “Already explained to him that Katya’s a crazy cunt. He seemed satisfied.”

“And your bride?”

“What about my bride?”

“Did you explain the situation to her?”

He balks, derisive laughter and gin-laced spit spraying past his lips. “Why the hell would I? I have to keep her damn father happy because he’s important to the Bratva. I don’t have to keep her happy.”

This conversation alone is enough to make me feel sorry for Mila Obniz— No, actually, she’s a Kuznetsov now.

Forget congratulations; condolences are in order.

“You do have to maintain the status quo, however,” I snarl. “I’m sick of cleaning up your messes.”

“Hey, I married the bitch, didn’t I? Just like you ordered.” He steals the bottle of gin from my hand and takes a long swig that ends up dribbling down the side of his chin. He wipes it away with the sleeve of his jacket. “Looks like Otets couldn’t be bothered to be here.”

---