Page 83 of Unforgiving Queen
I typed a message back. There was no way in hell I’d meet him in Russia. He’d have to meet me on my turf.
Meet me at my place in the Philippines.
I was certain that through his extensive resources, Illias knew exactly where to find me.
* * *
The crystal blue waters shimmered under the horizon. This island was my slice of heaven.
I stood on the front landing of my manor, watching the car make its way toward me. It no doubt housed the Pakhan and his trusted second, Boris.
The car came to a stop and two figures exited. Just as I guessed, Boris was at Illias’s back, ready to pounce. Why? I had no fucking idea since it was Konstantin who asked to see me, not the other way around. We’d been more or less friends, as friendly as possible in the criminal world.
The two of them stepped forward. “Just you,” I told the Pakhan.
Boris immediately objected. “I’m coming too.”
“No.”
I didn’t react when Boris reached for his weapon. He’d be dead before ever touching it if my highly trained snipers securing the property had anything to do with it, but Konstantin stopped him before it could escalate. “Stay here.”
Turning around, I headed inside. Illias needed something from me, so I trusted him not to shoot me in the back.
“If I wanted you dead, I’d have seized your weapon,” I told him when I sensed his hesitation. “And you wouldn’t be standing behind me.”
Besides, there were days where I wondered whether death wouldn’t be a welcome reprieve. The war would start the moment Dante slipped a ring on Reina’s finger. Fuck all relations on every fucking side.
“Good to know,” he replied wryly. “Although I don’t have a habit of shooting people in the back.”
I glanced up, registering the men stationed along my roof following Konstantin’s steps like shadows.
Once we made it to the opposite side of the house, we exited onto the terrace. The ocean surrounded the property from all three sides, and the temperatures were warm but not unbearable. You could forget about the Yakuza, Omertà, and every other fucking affliction when here.
“You have yourself a slice of paradise.”
“Yet you hate it,” I noted dryly.
He shrugged. “What can I say? I prefer snow and Siberian temperatures.”
I extended my hand, signaling for him to sit down. Silence stretched while golden curls and blue eyes played in my mind. I was given intel on Dante’s visit to Reina’s apartment a few weeks ago. He’d spent a good half hour there, and my head hadn’t been playing nice ever since, taunting me with nauseating images.
I didn’t know why life had to play such a fucked-up game with us.
I sat back, my hands clutching the armrest. I had to get this meeting with Illias over so I could check on Reina. I wouldn’t put it past Dante’s fucking crazy ass to elope with her.
“I can’t help you with the Yakuza,” I said, my voice cold.
It didn’t escape me that his eyes flicked to my hands. “Maybe we can help each other.”
Our eyes locked, my lips curving into a cold smile. Nobody could help me. Not unless they absolved me of my blood ties.
“And how do you figure that?”
“How about we cut the bullshit?”
I didn’t blink.
“Be my guest,” I drawled, slightly annoyed.
