Reign (The Syndicate_ Crime and Passion Book 2)(43)

We had known each other for our entire lives, but things would never be like they were before, and after my last conversation with him, that comfort we had shared, or that I’d thought we had, anyway, was gone. Now I wondered if I had ever known him at all.

“Has something happened?” I asked.

“I didn’t like the way we left things,” he said, not answering the question.

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“Things at Santo’s house… That conversation wasn’t how I wanted to leave things.”

“And how did you want to leave them?” I asked.

He reached for my hand, but I tucked it behind my body out of reach. He frowned but then continued on.

“Daniela, I care about you. I worry about you. You’re my friend.”

“I appreciate it, Michael,” I said, though I felt anything but appreciative. “I’m making the best of things.”

“And how are you doing that, Daniela? Making the best of things?” he asked.

I frowned at him.

“Are you implying something?” I asked, pulling myself to my full height, using the superiority I had so rarely used but that Nora had taught me well.

“You looked very comfortable,” he said.

My frown deepened, but I maintained my calm. “Michael, unless you’re here for something in particular, I need to be leaving,” I said.

I didn’t owe him or anyone else an explanation, and more importantly, Sergei was going to be home soon, and I wanted to see him.

Michael nodded. “Fine. I see where we stand, but I have some bad news,” he said.

My heart jumped into my throat at his words, the somber expression on his face. “Why didn’t you mention that earlier?” I asked, not hiding the annoyance in my voice.

He shrugged. “I was hoping to reach an understanding before we got to business, but it seems like you’re certain where we stand,” he said.

I gritted my teeth and then glared at him, only barely holding back a scream. “Michael, what’s happened?”

It was his turn to frown. “It’s Davey. He’s dead.”

I gasped, looked at Michael. “How?”

His eyes gleamed with something like triumph in them. “Ask your husband.”





Nineteen





Daniela



When Sergei finally came home, I didn’t pounce on him and begin asking questions as I wanted to.

Instead, holding on to a calm and focus I was surprised I could muster, I waited for him, listening as he ran upstairs, turned on the shower, and then, about twenty minutes later, came back down.

He looked like himself, his water-darkened hair beckoning my fingers, his body doing the same, and when I watched him, my heart and body came alive.

My reaction said everything about me that there was to be said. He’d probably taken a life today, not his first, and I didn’t care.

Maybe I was defective, maybe I had spent so many years seeking the love of a man like him I had no sense of right or wrong. Maybe I was so profoundly damaged that I was beyond hope.

In the past, I’d liked to think of myself as different, pretend that I wasn’t like them.

And I wasn’t like them.

I was worse. Complicit. Content to profit, enjoy a good life—find love at the expense of others like Davey—still sleep at night. I tried to do good, make up for it, but I wasn’t convinced I did. Still, I’d try. And I’d make sure Rita was taken care of. It was the least I could do.

“Heavy thoughts?” he said, as he came to me and put his arms around me.

I almost sighed with relief, but instead I said, “I’m fine. What made you ask that?”

His dark eyes hardened, and his arms tightened around me. “You’re not fine, Daniela. Far from it. What’s going on in that head of yours?” he said, watching me, eyes boring into mine as if he was searching for all of my secrets.

I broke his gaze, tried to move from his arms, but he didn’t budge. I didn’t struggle, knowing a lost battle when I saw one, but I didn’t relent either. “I’m not sure what you mean, Sergei.”

He pulled me closer. “Look at me,” he said.

I responded without thought, met those intense eyes again.

“You think you hide it so well, don’t you?” he said. The impulse to look away again was strong, but I ignored it, kept my gaze on his. “Your whole life you’ve worked so hard at convincing them. Or maybe they just didn’t see it. But I see,” he said.

“Sergei, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, putting a sternness in my voice I didn’t feel.

In fact, I felt the opposite. I felt fragile, like maybe I would shatter if he let me go. Exposed at the thought of someone seeing me.