Page 68 of Inked Adonis

Ilya smirks. “Speaking of the devil, have you seen him recently?”

I shake my head. “He hasn’t come to see me, and I don’t go running just because he snaps his fingers. That’s your job.”

Ilya makes a show of widening his smile, but his eyes tighten in that old, familiar pattern. “Ah, that’s the cost of being the favorite, I suppose.”

“I’m about to throw you off the balcony if you don’t tell me what you’re doing here.”

“We’re done with the catching up portion of the night, then?” He pulls a burner phone from his pocket and slides it across the table to me. “Fair enough. Go ahead; take a look.”

The screen is already lit with a picture—a candid shot of Katerina at the park. She’s perched on a bench next to a middle-aged man with streaks of gray running through his dark hair. His eyes are fixed on her like she’s his next meal.

I swipe left and find more pictures of Katerina with the same man. In restaurants. On street corners. Outside hotels.

“Am I supposed to know who this is?” I keep my voice deliberately bored.

“I thought maybe, but... I guess not.” Ilya’s smile turns vicious. “He’s a cop.”

There’s more to this story. I hate having to wait for my brother to dole out the pieces like breadcrumbs. “Okay. So?”

Ilya basks in this fleeting taste of power. He laces his fingers behind his head and crosses his legs. “Aren’t you going to offer me a drink? It’s the least you can do after breaking my nose—again.”

“Fresh out.”

Ilya rolls his eyes. “Why not bring your saucy little girlfriend out here to join us? I’d like to get to know her better.”

Red bleeds into my vision, and I fight the urge to flip the table onto my brother. “You’re never going to speak to her.”

“Ooh, protective.”

I shove my hands in my pockets to hide how badly I want to form them into fists. “Tell me why you’re here, or I will introduce you to the dog. Or maybe the two of you have already met?”

His smile slips. Panic flashes behind his eyes. He tries to shrug it off, but his gaze darts to the sliding glass door like he’s waiting for Rufus to burst through and rip out his throat.

“I’m here to give you a little brotherly advice,” he says. “Women can’t be trusted.”

I toss the phone with Katerina’s pictures back to him. “Is this your way of telling me that Katerina’s finally gotten sick of you and she’s exchanged your cock for thismudak’s? I’d be surprised, but then again... you know her exactly as well as I do.”

Ilya doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by the reminder of what he did with Katerina behind my back. “Who was I to deny her after she begged and pleaded for me to fuck her the way you couldn’t?” He shrugs like the choice wasn’t even his. “Anyway, enough of this macho bullshit. It’s so tiring, you know? The man in the picture with Kat is a cop. He has two sons on the force, too. It’s the family business.”

“Why the fuck should I care who?—?”

“His name is Tom Pierce,” he continues, radiating smug satisfaction as he leans back in his chair. “Then again, maybe you already know all this. Because from the looks of it—” His eyes slide back toward the penthouse. “—you are sleeping with his daughter.”

One sentence. That’s all it takes to make me see the connections between all the dots I’ve been so fucking blind to.

Of course.

Of. Fucking. Course.

But I don’t give Ilya the satisfaction of seeing my reaction. I keep my face carved from stone as I stare him down.

“Get out,” I say quietly. “And if you ever point a gun at her again, I will end you. Brother or not.”

A smile spreads across his bloody face. “See? This is why I had to tell you. Family looks out for family.” He stands, straightening his suit jacket. “Give Nova my regards. Or should I say, Officer Pierce’s daughter?”

I watch him leave, my hand white-knuckled on his gun.

Only when I hear the elevator doors close do I allow myself to process what this means.

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