“Yes.”
The true meaning of it all descended on me at once. Alex was part of an empire. One of the largest criminal organizations in the world.
It made perfect sense now—why it had been so difficult to get any real information out of the informants. They were under pressure we didn’t even know about. It wasn’t only their life on the line; it was probably their families’ too.
“Andrei and I have always done our own thing, but yes. We’re part of something bigger.”
Easy. Simple. He said it all without hesitation.
“Does my father know that?” I stuttered again, trying to come to terms with what I’d just heard. Was my father aware of who he was facing? Maybe if he knew the extent of it all, he wouldn’t have been so dedicated to bringing down The Nightcrawlers.
“He does.” Alex shattered all my deductions. “He was passed a message about the depth of it all. About who we were, but I guess he didn’t care.”
I looked into his eyes—his tender, gentle eyes—and realized Alex wasn’t just a thief.
He was a killer, too.
And he wasmine.
24
Eyes On Me
Jade
The house had a wine room larger than my entire apartment.
Because of course it did.
While Alex made lunch, I wandered around and marveled at every corner, slowly padding my way through the hallways, rooms, and bathrooms.
There was a level below the first and when I descended the curved staircase, I noticed an indoor garage on the left and a wine cellar on the right. I turned right.
The smell of wine, chocolate, and something equally rich and unattainable hit me first, but also howsoftthe room felt. There was a decent-sized couch covered in soft green fabric, a few sitting chairs, and wine fridges built into the walls. Each bottle was carefully laid out in its place, the lighting muted and mysterious.
I dragged my fingers along the island, which I assumed was a tasting table, and ogled the bottles.
This whole house was something out of a fairy tale. Or maybe a gossip column. It wasalldrenched in luxury. Gold accents, marble, soft fabrics. The air was different here.
All financed with drug money.
Worse—Bratva money.
Alex and I were effectively playing house for the last week, but that’s not who he was. That’s not who hetrulywas.
I’d read about the Bratva. I was aware of who they were, what they did, and how ruthless they could be. Inhumane, even. The Russians were involved in everything, but in the last few years, they had infiltrated the main US drug markets. That’s how I’d heard about…TheTsar.A man who rose to the top of their ranks with astronomical speed and who everyone answered to. Alex too?
That all seemed like fantasy. A silly word—Tsar, so far removed from me. It was somewhere else—drugs, guns, death, blood money. But not anymore—I was in that world now, standing in a room directly paid for with blood money.
I peeked inside the wine fridge, reading the label and trying not to spiral. Because finding out that I was in love with a member of the Russian mafia wasn’t on my bingo card this year.
Don’t think the word. Don’t think the L-word.
“You want to try it?” A deep voice sounded near the entrance, my skin tingling at the thought of him. I felt him there—heard him come down the stairs. Alex strolled closer and held out his hand. I passed him the bottle, watching the small smile on his face.
The image of him on his knees earlier in the morning,beggingto eat me out, was still burning inside me.
Alex approached the island and uncorked the wine, expertly pouring it into a decanter. It was a dark red.