Page 68 of The Payback

I open my mouth to respond, but Dimitri holds a hand up, those ice-blue eyes boring into mine. “Think about it, Nikita. We’ve had our differences, but I see more in you than the lackey who does what he’s been told. You spent long enough away from the family and have your own code of ethics. What it comes down to is this: Can you live this life? Working with Sergei and continuing this cycle of stepping on the innocent to line our pockets? If that is the case, then, by all means, get the fuck out of my house.” He flicks his fingers, as if dismissing me.

“I’m in—all in. But if you think I need time to cement that, you’re fucked in the head. Ask me again in two days, a week, a month, and my answer will be the same.”

Dimitri nods and steeples his fingers under his chin. “Good. Tell me about Eleanor.”

The abrupt subject change makes me chuckle. “She’s something, isn’t she?” I ask.

He bares his teeth at me, and his hand dips towards his hip, where he keeps his gun.

Probably not the ideal time to tell him she and I fucked less than an hour ago. Not while he’s armed, at least.

“How real is your marriage?” I ask.

His lips curl up into a grin, and I know he’s imagining fucking her again. “As real as it gets.”

“For now,” I say, recalling her response that first night in the penthouse when Dimitri asked her if she was his. “Well, this was enlightening. I’m heading out for a smoke. If Ellie’s here, she’s gathering evidence. What’s the plan for that, and how can I help? It’s too soon to bring her to the big meetings and shit, but she can start chipping away at the lower rungs.”

“She’ll find her way in. You’ll accompany her to lunch with Sergei as an extra set of eyes. And you’ll be wearing a camera for additional evidence of any wrongdoing. Watch them. Watch her. You know she has a life to get back to after this.”

A life... right. Achild. She was dating someone back when we were partners for a while—Conrad? Conan? Something like that. I wonder if she ended up getting back with that dickwad. Is the child his? Is she married to him too?

Although, I guess the last one is less concerning because she’s married to Dimitri, which didn’t stop us. The punishment will be brutal, but God forgive me; I want to do it again.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

Eleanor

Nik leadsthe way into Filet, the Bratva-owned restaurant Sergei chose for our lunch. He’s accompanying me today instead of Igor, and as he leads the way into the restaurant, his movements are stilted and less fluid than usual, as if he’s got an injury he’s trying to hide.

It’s been nearly a month since I watched my husband torture one of his men, then Nik dropped bomb after bomb onto an already tenuous situation, and my morals were called into question—oh yeah, and about a week since Nik and I fucked in the gym and I woke up trapped in his room until he unlocked the damned door.

I was waiting near the locked door when I heard his footsteps on the stairs. As the mechanism disengaged, I barrelled through it, landing a hit to that anchor tattoo I was aiming for earlier when we’d been sparring, and I blew past him into the suite, shutting it in his face and not speaking to him since.

Fucker thinks he can just lock me away when he’s done with me. He deserved the shot to the spleen.

I’ve had a shit month, and it’s only getting worse because the last thing I want to do is playact in front of Sergei to dig for information, but this is a prime opportunity to get a few answers.

“We’re meeting someone,” Nik says, breezing by the hostess stand and leading the way towards the back of the restaurant. I send her an apologetic look, and she just rolls her eyes. I would, too, if someone was that dismissive of me when I was just doing my job.

I watch Nik’s back as he moves through the tables, and when he stops and shifts to the side, I see Sergei sitting at a four-top table, a glass of red wine in his hand.

“Nik. Elsa, so good to see you,” he greets, standing from his chair.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Sergei,” I say, adopting that demure façade I wore at the wedding. I haven’t needed to shield myself at home, especially since I’m avoiding the two men who live there, but out here in their world? It’s necessary.

Nik pulls out a chair, and I slide into it without a thank you. And it bothers the hell out of me to intentionally be rude.

But in front of Sergei, I need to appear a certain way. Uncaring, entitled, a tool for the Bratva to use for their “alliance” with the Emerald Sabres.

Nik’s eyes flash with surprise at my cold façade, but he recovers quickly. He reaches for the seat beside me, but Sergei stops him with his hand on the backrest. “I think it’s best if Elsa and I chat privately, Nik.”

Nik doesn’t move but looks from Sergei to me, his brows raised and waiting for direction.

Please, I mouth.

Glare activated, Nik leaves our table and sits nearby with a good view of the entire restaurant, waving off a server as he approaches.

Sergei sits and clasps his hands in front of him. “So, how can I help you, Elsa?”

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