The Player (The Game Maker #3) - Kresley Cole Page 0,76
he divorced me, and take him for all he’s worth. Then the family would be safe, and we could all be together again. That’s all we’ve dreamed about for months. Don’t you want that too?”
“Of course.”
“To the grave, hon.”
I gazed down at my ring. To the grave.
CHAPTER 30
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When I entered the study, Dmitri said, “I finished early so I can take you shopping down the coast.”
Of course you did, because you’re affectionate and thoughtful. “That sounds really nice.”
His brows drew together at my pensive expression. “What’s wrong?” He stood.
I joined him by the desk. “Not a thing.”
“Come now, even I can tell something’s amiss.” He rested his hands on my shoulders. “Moya zhena, you can talk to me about anything.”
I gazed up into his eyes. Between this closeness and his touch, my path seemed to gain clarity, Karin’s words fading. After all, she didn’t know how wonderful Dmitri was. And hadn’t she said any sane man would need to investigate?
My husband was a little crazy.
The grift sense I’d relied on all my life was telling me to shoot for the guy, the ring, and the cartel payoff. If I believed everything he’d told me since we’d met, then he would do this for me.
Trusting another man, Vice? “I . . . what if I asked you for something I knew was unfair?”
He swallowed, his voice going hoarse as he said, “Divorce?”
“No!”
He blew out a breath, staggering back into his seat. “Then I don’t give a goddamned fuck what you ask for. Wife wants; wife gets, remember?”
“But it won’t make sense unless you drill down on it or dig. And I know how badly you need things to make sense.”
His lips curved. “You’re already learning me well.”
I backed up a step. “I’m sorry; this was a mistake. Temporary insanity.” Had I really just said that? Shit, Vice, get it together!
He shot to his feet, moving between me and the door. “I refuse to let you leave until you tell me what’s making you unhappy. You know I’ll keep us here till we starve.”
Yep. Just as I knew he would’ve let that mare prance right into this house. “Dmitri, if I asked you for something large and unusual, could you swear never to investigate why?” I twined my fingers, touching the ring like a talisman. “To let it not make sense?”
“I can do anything to make you happy. But you must talk to me.”
I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.
He cupped my chin to lift my face. “I won’t tell you to trust me.” If he had, I would’ve bolted. “That will come in time. But I will ask my Vegas wife to take a chance on me.”
I released a breath. “Okay, here goes. Can I please . . . could I have a check today for three million dollars, no questions asked?”
He dropped his hand. “Sit.” He indicated the chair across from his desk.
Just great, Vice, fucking great. How stupid could I have been? Now I’d blown everything! I hesitantly sat, preparing myself for whatever he was about to say.
He sat as well. “I am disappointed, Vika. In myself.”
“I . . . what?”
He steepled his fingers. “I haven’t made it clear enough that we share this fortune. You never need ask for what’s already yours. I hope we can consult about larger expenditures, but it’s not necessary.”
I could only gape at him.
“You don’t have to answer, but is this money for your parents?”
When I hesitated, he said, “I will never drill down on this or dig further.” Not a lie. “I ask because we could transfer the money. Immediately.”
Sell on the sizzle. “It’s a debt.” Maybe he’d think we had run afoul of the IRS, or needed to ward off a bankruptcy.
“If you have all the account data, we could complete the transfer now, to spare them any unnecessary worry.”
In a daze, I pulled up the information on my phone and handed it to him. “It’s under Joseph and Jill”—Gentleman Joe and Diamond Jill—“Valentine.”
Dmitri typed in numbers at a blinding speed, then said, “There. All taken care of.” He returned my phone.
I started to hyperventilate. “That just . . . happened? Did that really . . . just happen?”
“Of course, love.”
Even as my brain exploded from his generosity, I felt the stress of the last few months evaporating. My family would be safe.
He opened a desk drawer, retrieving a leather portfolio similar to the one that had contained the postnup. He stood and offered it to me. “I just got