Page 203 of The Devil's Thorn
Yuri leaned forward. “You going to tell her what we found?”
I stared at the fire again, the flickering embers dancing like secrets too hot to hold. “No,” I said quietly. “Not yet.”
The ice in my glass clinked once before I set it down untouched and turned my gaze to Yuri who stood up and walked to the bar, looking at the drinks. His laughter filled the space behind me, low and amused as he leaned his elbow on the bar. “You should see your face right now, Romanov.”
I glanced over my shoulder, slow and sharp. “You got something to say, say it.”
He lifted his drink in salute. “Just thinking. You might’ve knocked up the daughter of Lorenzo Silvani. That’s not just crossing the line, that’s pissing on it, brother.”
Nikolai muttered something under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. I didn’t even look at him. My eyes stayed locked on Yuri, whose grin hasn’t faded.
“She’s not pregnant,” I said flatly, jaw tight.
Yuri arched a brow. “You sure about that? ‘Cause unless she was already on something, I don’t think that’s how biology works.”
“She didn’t say anything,” I grind out. “And I didn’t ask.”
Nikolai sat back on the couch, exhaling. “So you went in raw, during an active war, with a woman who might be the daughter of the man who could put a bullet in your skull if he finds out?”
The silence hang heavy after that. I stared at the floor for a moment, trying to push back the crackle under my skin. I didn’t like the implication. That I didn’t think. That I lost control. But I did.
I lost control the second I pulled her into me like she belonged there.
“She didn’t know either,” I said, finally. “If she’s his daughter. She has no idea.”
Yuri tossed back the rest of his drink with a shrug. “Still might’ve made a baby with her. You’re real sentimental for a guy who slices throats for a living.”
I glared at him, but he didn’t flinch. He never does. “She was a move,” I said, almost to myself. “A play I made to control the board.”
Nikolai lifted a brow. “Still looks like the board’s playing you.”
I turned, jaw tense, and walked back to the windows, the city spilling out beneath me in quiet shadows. But my mind didn’t follow the skyline. It’s stayed stuck on the message. Viktor’s words. The bracelet.
And Isabella.
Because no matter how much I wanted to deny it—wanted to tell myself this was just strategy—I knew better. And if Lorenzo finds out what happened between us… or worse, if she finds out first…
I clenched my fists. I need to get ahead of this.
“We leave in three days,” I said over my shoulder. “Get me everything you can on Lorenzo’s past connections. The woman he was supposed to marry. Anyone who disappeared from his life without a trace.”
Yuri whistles. “You really want to know, huh?”
“I don’t want surprises,” I growled.
Nikolai nodded. “We’ll find it.”
I didn’t look back. Just keep staring out at the city I control… and the woman who might be the key to my downfall.
The city bled gold beneath the skyline, sun dipping low behind crumbling towers and glinting glass. I stood near the edge of the floor-to-ceiling windows in my penthouse, one hand braced against the cool glass, the other clenching around nothing but air.
Silence hung behind me. Heavy. Expectant. But it was the kind of quiet I liked—when the world outside roared but mine stayed still. Contained. Controlled.
That illusion shattered with Yuri’s voice. “So,” he said slowly, amusement curling into the single syllable, “if she’s pregnant… you marrying her?”
I didn’t turn around. I didn’t answer. Because the question hit harder than I liked.
Marrying her?
