Page 67 of Til Death Do Us Part (Kornilov Bratva Duet 2)

Petr is the closest thing I have to family, too. He has been like a brother for years, and the thought that he could be betraying me too is physically painful.

“I haven’t spoken to Fedor at all outside of our meetings with him. I’m not working for him, and I never would.”

Petr’s voice is thick with emotion, and it sounds genuine. But what do I know about genuine emotion? Fedor was lying to me, Petr was keeping secrets from me, and through all of it, I’m still preoccupied with whether or not my fake wife really loves me or not.

Everything in my life is fucked up and twisted in ways that make it hard to see which way is up.

“I wish I could believe you,” I say. The words are meant to inspire fear, but they sound weak. More like a plea than a threat.

Frustrated, I turn and storm out of the basement.

* * *

George picksup on the second ring. “Well, what did he say?”

He knows I was interrogating Petr and is eager for more information, but so am I.

“I need you to find out if Petr was having an affair with the Italian lieutenant’s wife.”

“Is that what he is saying?”

“Yes, and I need to know as soon as possible if he can be trusted.”

George agrees without any further questions, and when we hang up, I shove my phone in my pocket and lean back against the brick wall. I wish I had a cigarette. I’ve never been much of a smoker—just now and then when the occasion or the company calls for it—but now I wish I had something to do with my hands.

Usually at this point in an interrogation, I’d be beating the person to a pulp. But I don’t want to hurt Petr until I’m certain he deserves it. I’d never forgive myself if I found out he had been telling the truth the entire time.

Though, in regards to the bruises he already has, he deserves those. If he really was lying to me about something as stupid as fucking another man’s wife while we are in the middle of a war, then he needs a good beating to teach him what is actually important. I’d rather know he is a home wrecker than think he is disloyal.

The door opens, and I look over as Seamus saunters over to me, hands shoved down in his pockets. “That was entertaining.”

“Was it?” I ask, trying to find a friendly smile. “I’m glad. Thanks again for helping me out.”

“You saved my life,” he says. “I owed you. Besides, I like you.”

I raise a brow and look over at him. “Are we going to kiss now?”

He chuckles. “See? You’re funny. And Niamh is smitten with Molly. The two of us never had children. It just wasn’t in the cards for us, but she has always been a mother at heart. She cares for people, and I can see that she cares about Molly. She wants to protect her.”

“I want that, too.” More than anyone could possibly know. Molly has been through so much, and she deserves a happy life. I’m just not sure if I’m the kind of person who can give her that.

“I know. Which is why I know you’ll do whatever you can to end this war, and that works to my benefit, too.”

“How so?”

“Your brother is growing powerful and reckless. He struck one of my laundromats early this morning.”

I frown. “I hadn’t heard about that.”

“You’ve been busy,” he says, tipping his head back towards the building. “But this war is growing larger than just the two of you. Fedor and his men are wild … savage. They are fanatics following a loose cannon. They’ll do whatever he asks of them regardless of the body count. So, I want Fedor taken care of, too, and aligning with you is the best way to ensure that happens.”

“Great. Then we are on the same page.”

“Are we?” Seamus asks, turning to me.

I frown. “Of course, we are.”

“I hope so,” he admits. “Because once your brother is gone, his men will be neutralized. Once the figurehead is gone, there will be a power vacuum and his followers will fall into in-fighting. They aren’t organized enough to have a Plan B set in place. At that point, they’ll be easy to pick off, but we have to get to that point first.”

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