Page 75 of Tarnished Queen

“Where is she?” I mutter to myself.

I pull out my phone and check for any missed messages, but there’s nothing. My finger is hovering over Elise’s name in my contacts list when I hear a peal of rough laughter. I turn to the sound and notice the patio door is cracked open.

I creep towards the door, poking my head around the corner to look through the glass pane in the door. But I don’t see Elise or Nikolai.

Instead, there are three large men hulking around the empty patio furniture.

Yuri is standing further back, glancing furtively towards the side of the house like he’s making sure no one is watching them. The other two men are decked out in security gear. I recognize one of them from the guard shack by the gate, but not the other.

The one I recognize shakes his head. “All this shit might be funny if it wasn’t our livelihood on the line. Who the fuck is gonna pay us when the don gets himself killed for this bitch?”

I freeze, my feet glued to the spot. I couldn’t move right now even if I wanted to.

“He’ll survive, Makar,” the unknown man says. “So far, it’s just everyone else he lets die for her.”

“RIP Arslan.” The one named Makar kisses his fingers and points to the sky.

Yuri works his jaw like he wants to respond, but isn’t sure what to say. Finally, he leans forward. “You know Arslan was always throwing himself into trouble. Nikolai tried to save him and almost died in the process.”

“And Arslan had plenty of trouble to throw himself into once the accountant showed up,” Makar retorts. “She was probably a plant for the Greeks from the start. Send a tight little ass in as a distraction while they pull the rug out from under us.”

The other man nods in agreement. “Nikolai should’ve fucked Bridget if he wanted someone outside the Bratva. She’s hot and easy.”

Jealousy flares hot and bright in my chest. Before I can really consider what I’m doing, I pull the door open and step onto the patio.

The three men turn, momentarily dumbstruck. Yuri looks horrified.

“Evening, gentlemen.” I give them all a warm smile. “Taking a break?”

“Shift change, actually,” Makar grumbles. “We were just leaving.”

He starts to turn, but I shake my head. “Stay. Hang out. You all deserve the break.”

“Don’t need it,” the other man grunts. “We’ll work as long as the Bratva needs us to.”

Makar nods. “And anyway, we usually wait for an invite from the don before we linger. It’s his house, after all. Not for the riff-raff.”

If the first comment was an obvious jab, the second hits me right in the chest.

This isn’t your house. You don’t belong here. We don’t trust you.

I give up my half-baked plan to kill them with kindness and settle on blunt honesty. It’s how I’m hoping to handle things with Elise, so might as well test it out here.

“Listen, I know things are tense right now with—”

“Your friends,” Makar adds under his breath.

I narrow my eyes. “Xena tried to kill me. She tried to kill Nikolai. She is not my friend.”

He shrugs. “That remains to be seen.”

“No, it doesn’t. It has been seen. I’m not working with her.”

Makar backs away with his hands raised. “So you say.”

I turn to Yuri in hopes of finding an ally out here. “You trust me, don’t you? Nikolai wouldn’t be working so closely with you if he didn’t.”

Yuri grimaces, and I’m sure I’ve said the wrong thing, though I don’t know why. I apparently know even less about how a Bratva works than I thought.

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