Page 63 of Thorns of Death
Either way, I was happy for the company. I went through my brother’s office again and found no new clues. I googled the name I had found on my birth certificate but came up blank. Not a single lead.
At least the castle was no longer boring with Tatiana around. Life had spiraled into a slightly weird version of chaos. First, we were attacked in the garage by two imposter guards. She had saved me—fucking saved my life—by pushing me onto the ground. Then a simplebangfrom my brother’s gun, and it was all over. It didn’t seem to frazzle Tatiana at all. She acted like a badass bitch.
And all the while Reina’s words rang in my ears. My brother was the Pakhan. In truth, it finally made perfect sense. Yet, I said nothing to Illias. Not that he was around much. He came, flew out urgently. Two weeks of chaos with my sister-in-law and getting to know each other in Russia, only for her to fake my kidnapping and for the journey to return us to Paris. I was now the presumed-kidnapped Tatiana’s sister-in-law—what a mouthful.
But she needed a favor to unravel her own secrets concerning her dead husband and apparently Enrico Marchetti had that information. And she did save my life, so here we were. In a charming little hotel—although I had a perfectly good apartment—both of us crammed in a little bed.
Hotel Marignan Champs-Elysées was romantic. Far too romantic for the two of us to be sharing a room.
I turned my head to find Tatiana sound asleep. Christmas lights glimmered—although it was only November—through the windows from the City of Love, casting flickers over her blonde hair. The woman looked like an angel when she slept. While I, with my red hair, looked like a female version of the devil standing on her opposite shoulder. She could probably fool most people, but I’d seen her in action. Looks could be deceiving.
Returning my attention to the dark ceiling, I stared at it, unable to sleep. I was perturbed. Worried. After hearing the conversation between my brother and Enrico two weeks ago, I wondered what Enrico’s angle was. But if he thought I’d just accept it, he was sorely mistaken.
And then there was the whole revelation that my brother and Enrico knew each other, and that my brother was apparently the Pakhan—also known as a badass criminal involved in a lot of suspicious shit. I only had one murder under my belt, but according to Google, the heads of criminal organizations had many.
What kind of secrets was my brother keeping exactly? Maybe instead of trying to find out, I should just let him keep his so I could keep mine. Well, my friends’ and mine. It was very likely that if Illias knew the Marchetti family, he’d know the others too.
I tucked a curly strand of hair behind my ear, my fingers trembling lightly. If Illias knew what we had done to help Reina, I feared he’d blow a gasket. There’d be a volcanic eruption with no way of stopping it. Although one thing I was certain of: Tatiana would find a way to cool my brother’s temper.
I didn’t even want to imagine the ways she’d calm him, actually. I snickered, turning to my side and staring at the flickering lights of Paris. The City of Love, and I always seemed to find myself in charming hotels with friends.
Reaching for my cell on the tiny nightstand, I started typing a message. After all, we couldn’t just show up at Enrico’s home and shoot our way in. Tatiana would be carrying a gun, but we’d agreed it would be blank.
Hey, it’s Isla. Can I see you tomorrow morning?
The moment I pressed send, I groaned. I should have done this earlier; it was past midnight. I mentally slapped myself. Who sent messages to mysterious mobsters at midnight? Clingy, needy hook-ups who wanted another night of hanky-panky, that’s who.
My phone’s beeping interrupted my inner monologue.
Why?
Okay, that reply was a bit short and to the point.
Just because?
Your last message said you’re done. Should I quote to you what you said?
For Pete’s sake. Men weren’t supposed to hold grudges.
There were rows and rows of middle fingers.
I’m not done with your dick. We could get started tonight with some phone sex. Ever done it, old man?
Oh my God, Isla! What are you doing?The plan wasn’t to antagonize him. Nor to have phone sex with him while Tatiana slept like the dead next to me.
My phone rang before I could take my next breath. I glanced at the caller ID. Enrico.
Well, at least I knew what worked with him. So I’d have to use my body to get us in tomorrow.
“Hello?” I whispered. My voice came out altogether too breathy for my liking.
“You’re asking for trouble, aren’t you,dolcezza?”
I rolled my eyes in the darkness. “I’ve never been in trouble in my life.” Such a damn lie. Reina, Phoenix, and I were in trouble all the time. We just never got caught. “So why are you calling?”
“This wildpiccolinawith a ginger mane offered phone sex. I’d be a fool to refuse.”
I chuckled softly but immediately stifled it.
