Page 95 of Thorns of Lust
“If it involves me, I should know,” I claimed. I regretted drinking so much prior because my speech was slurred but my head was clear. For the first time in a very long time. “Vasili, how did Adrian and you become friends?” I asked, changing subjects. There was no sense of beating the dead horse.
Vasili’s expression darkened. “He had it rough. Living on the Russian streets. His no good parents. Then father learned of a connection he could possibly provide and pulled him in.”
Those words Adrian whispered when we danced in that shitty parking lot echoed in my brain.
“Did you know those weren’t his real parents?” I asked.
Vasili’s brows furrowed. “Yes, they were.”
I shook my head. “No, they weren’t.”
“How do you know?”
“He told me when he took me to some shitty parking lot in Russia,” I murmured. “He said his father and future died there. Murdered.”
“What the fuck?” he hissed. “He took you to where his father was shot?”
I nodded. “There wasn’t much there,” I remarked, although Adrian and I didn’t see the same parking lot when we stood there. Then Vasili’s earlier answer registered. “What connections did he have that father wanted?”
Vasili shrugged. “There’s some secret, powerful organization. Papa thought they held Marietta and Alexei. Then when he realized it was a false lead, he thought they could help find him. Obviously, he was wrong.”
Yeah, he was wrong. Our mother stole Alexei and Marietta found refuge in the arms of the Spanish cartel. Like I said, we had all different shades of fucked up family history.
“Papa trusted him that much?”
Vasili shrugged. “After months and years, Adrian had proven his loyalty.”
And then betrayed it. But those words remained sealed behind my lips and buried deep in my soul. My brother said nothing about Adrian’s betrayal, and I saw no point in telling Vasili how far Adrian’s self-protection went.
Rising to my feet, I strode to my brother and wrapped my arms around his waist. “You protected me, Vasili. I am possibly one of the most normal women in the underworld.” He tilted his head and gave me a pointed look. “Okay, I had a very normal childhood. Actually, normal and Nikolaev don't go in the same sentence. The point is you didn’t fail.”
“I hate seeing you like this, kroshka.”
The pain in his voice cracked my heart some more. At this rate, it would be impossible to repair it.
“I’m getting better,” I rasped.
One step forward. Two steps back. Goddamn Adrian and the bullshit he left behind.
A hard-carved face with a strong jaw and piercing eyes flashed before my eyes. The pain in my chest dulled, giving way to a fire so strong it stole my goddamn breath.
Vasili’s eyes searched out mine. Whatever he saw in them must have satisfied him, because he nodded.
“Never forget, my little kroshka. We’re family. Your brothers and I will burn down this world for you. All you have to do is ask.”
And I would burn down the world for them. They didn’t evenhaveto ask.
Then Vasili kissed the tip of my nose. Just like he did when I was a little girl.
TWENTY-NINE
KONSTANTIN
The air was humid. The windows were open. The music was loud.
Some brass band playing a corner in the French Quarter, probably competing for tourists' attention. My desk was positioned close enough to the window to see the street, but far enough so passersby couldn’t see me. Not that they could see through the tinted windows.
My phone beeped. The same unknown number. Motherfucker!
