Page 24 of Sinful Union

I nod. “You were maybe sixteen?”

“Something like that. I didn’t go inside, though. Piotr made me stay in the car.”

Of course, he did. Even back then, Piotr had a tight grip on what she did, where she went, whom she spoke to.

I stretch my legs out beneath the table, noticing the way she tucks her hair behind her ear again—another tell. She’s working through something in her mind.

“My father owned the building back then,” I tell her. “It was one of the first major properties he acquired in the city. At the time, our fathers had plans to merge our families; a full alliance. They were going to move your family into one of the lower floors once everything was in place.”

Kat stiffens, tension creeping into her shoulders. I pause, watching her, assuming the reaction is from grief. I exhale sharply.

“I shouldn’t have brought that up. I know it’s a painful subject.”

I expect her to say something. To brush it off or nod in agreement. But before she can respond, one of my bodyguards steps forward, his voice low as he whispers into my ear. The air shifts before I even hear the words.

“Novikov made a move.”

The information lands like a gunshot.

I don’t react immediately. I finish my last sip of wine, set the glass down, and exhale through my nose before speaking. “What kind of move?”

“A power play. Direct challenge.”

My jaw tightens, but my expression remains stoic. I knew it was coming. I fucking knew it. Novikov has been waiting for an opening, and I gave him one the second I stepped away. The second I let my guard down.

Kat is watching me, eyes sharp, calculating. Her phone rings. We both glance at the screen.

Piotr.

Kat reacts quickly, putting the call on speaker before answering. “You’re on speaker,” she announces immediately, “and Pavel’s here with me.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Piotr’s voice fills the air. His hesitation before speaking gives me the impression that he had something else he wanted to discuss with his sister, something he didn’t want me to hear.

“Speak, Piotr. What’s going on?”

“Novikov’s men hit multiple businesses last night,” Piotr says. “Locations that were under both Andreev and Fetisov protection.”

“Go on,” I say.

“A homemade bomb went off at one place, drive-by shootings at the others. And before you ask, no visuals on the shooters. Cars were found a few hours later, stripped down to nothing.”

I don’t move. I don’t blink.

“How bad is the damage?” I ask, my voice like ice.

“Four dead,” he says.

Kat stiffens beside me.

“All civilians,” Piotr continues. “Innocents. Several more injured. The businesses are destroyed.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw as rage coils inside me, but I don’t let it show. Novikov wants a reaction. He wants me reckless. I won’t give him that.

Kat shakes her head, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass. Her horror is written all over her face. Novikov made a sloppy, desperate play, and now innocent blood has been spilled.

Unacceptable.

I let the silence stretch, let the weight of the moment settle before I speak. “Kat and I will be leaving for New York within the hour.”

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