talk about?”
Petr’s cheeks go pink. “How to get her out of her marriage. How I’d protect her … our future together.”
I snort. “So, what? You loved her?”
“Love,” Petr corrects. His eyes flick from mine to the floor and back again, nervous. “I love her, which is the reason I acted like an idiot. I mean, tell me you understand.”
“How would I understand?”
Petr shrugs. “I mean, Molly … she is your weakness, and—”
“I don’t have a weakness,” I say, charging forward, shoving my finger in his face. “And I would never let a woman change my relationship to this Bratva.”
Petr smiles, one eyebrow raised. “Viktor, I’m sure you believe that, but you have to know that isn’t true. Everything has changed since Molly came into your life. She is your priority now, and no one blames you for that, but … it’s true.”
I narrow my eyes, trying to find fault with what he is saying. When I can’t, it only makes me more annoyed. I stalk away from him. “Keep your commentary to yourself and finish explaining yourself so I can decide what to do with you. I have to get to dinner with my lady.”
“I don’t have anything else to say,” Petr says. “That was it. I lied to you because I didn’t want you to think I was betraying you by sleeping with an Italian’s wife, but now you think I betrayed you anyway. So much for that plan. You can think I’m scum if you want, but I can’t let you think I’m disloyal. I would never turn my back on you, Viktor. My brothers are dead, and Fedor is crazy. Aside from my mom, you are the closest family I have left.”
As much as I want to remain cold, my heart twists.
Petr is the closest thing I have to family, too. He has been like a brother for years, and the thought that he could be betraying me too is physically painful.
“I haven’t spoken to Fedor at all outside of our meetings with him. I’m not working for him, and I never would.”
Petr’s voice is thick with emotion, and it sounds genuine. But what do I know about genuine emotion? Fedor was lying to me, Petr was keeping secrets from me, and through all of it, I’m still preoccupied with whether or not my fake wife really loves me or not.
Everything in my life is fucked up and twisted in ways that make it hard to see which way is up.
“I wish I could believe you,” I say. The words are meant to inspire fear, but they sound weak. More like a plea than a threat.
Frustrated, I turn and storm out of the basement.
George picks up on the second ring. “Well, what did he say?”
He knows I was interrogating Petr and is eager for more information, but so am I.
“I need you to find out if Petr was having an affair with the Italian lieutenant’s wife.”
“Is that what he is saying?”
“Yes, and I need to know as soon as possible if he can be trusted.”
George agrees without any further questions, and when we hang up, I shove my phone in my pocket and lean back against the brick wall. I wish I had a cigarette. I’ve never been much of a smoker—just now and then when the occasion or the company calls for it—but now I wish I had something to do with my hands.
Usually at this point in an interrogation, I’d be beating the person to a pulp. But I don’t want to hurt Petr until I’m certain he deserves it. I’d never forgive myself if I found out he had been telling the truth the entire time.
Though, in regards to the bruises he already has, he deserves those. If he really was lying to me about something as stupid as fucking another man’s wife while we are in the middle of a war, then he needs a good beating to teach him what is actually important. I’d rather know he is a home wrecker than think he is disloyal.
The door opens, and I look over as Seamus saunters over to me, hands shoved down in his pockets. “That was entertaining.”
“Was it?” I ask, trying to find a friendly smile. “I’m glad. Thanks again for helping me out.”
“You saved my life,” he says. “I owed you. Besides, I like you.”
I raise a brow and look over at him. “Are we going to kiss now?”
He chuckles. “See? You’re funny. And Niamh is smitten with Molly. The two