The Player (The Game Maker #3) - Kresley Cole Page 0,77
these in.”
Inside were checks and credit cards in my new name. Victoria Sevastyan.
If I wanted to, I’d never have to give a name other than this one. I stared up at him in wonder.
“Vika, if you decide to leave our marriage, this money will be yours no matter what occurs. That should not be a consideration if you choose to stay with me.” He pinned me with his gaze. “You should stay because we do very well together. You should stay because I make you happy.”
Complicated man! He’d shown such vulnerability earlier when he’d barely been able to utter the word divorce; now he was all blazing confidence.
I stood, reaching up to lay a hand against his cheek. “You truly just sent my family three million dollars?”
“No. I sent them five, to incentivize them to come to us when they are in need of money. I told you, I have no parents. Yours will become mine. We will be notorious for spoiling family, will we not?”
I burst into tears. Real ones.
“Why are you crying?” He looked nervous.
“Because I’m so relieved. And you’re so wonderful.” Two tears in a bucket—I’m keeping him.
Which meant he could never find out my past. Cold-as-Ice Vice was officially buried. I would put away my decks of cards, my costumes, my fake IDs, and wigs forever. I’d hide my past and keep my family separated from him as much as possible—and as long as possible.
I launched myself at him and hugged him hard, my tears wetting his shirt. “If I have my own money, I can buy anything I want?”
His voice was thick as he said, “Name it, ángel, and it’s yours.”
I drew back to face him. “I need to get my husband a wedding ring.”
He swallowed, and could only nod.
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“I wish you were here to celebrate with us!” Karin cried over the music playing in the background.
The cartel had accepted the payment and cut us loose! Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.
They were out of our lives forever.
My family had been drunk-texting me for hours.
“I know. I miss you guys.” My tone was hushed; once Dmitri had fallen asleep, I’d sneaked into the bathroom and briefly spoken to the less hammered members of my family.
Mom and Dad had sounded like their old selves for the first time in months.
Even over the tunes on the other end of the line, I heard a champagne cork popping.
Karin said, “I still can’t believe you got the guy, the ring, and the money—plus some serious gratis on top. Well done, sis. We applaud your grift sense.”
I’d told her all about my angst, as well as Dmitri’s promises to spoil our family. I’d begged them never to let my husband know what we were.
Which meant instant retirement for the Valentines. “Is everyone good with stepping out of the game? I mean, Dmitri did say I could spend money however I like. I’ll set up accounts for you guys.”
“Your husband gave us an extra two million dollars. That’s going to take some time even for us to blow.” She laughed. “Gram is shitfaced and threatening to steal ‘rich Dmitri’ from you, and Al is lecturing everyone on the generosity of Russians in general. I dramatically vowed to send Walker back every dime he’s sent me, plus interest. And maybe a little note along the lines of, Thanks, but we’ve got it from here.”
“I think that’s a great idea.”
“Apparently he needs the money more than I do. Rumor says he’s going bankrupt. Ironic, huh?”
“Never would’ve seen that coming.”
“Enough about him. Can you believe this day?”
I glanced over my shoulder in Dmitri’s direction. If there was ever an example of me reaching for the stars . . .
“But, Vice?” Karin said, rousing me from my thoughts. “You know we celebrate our wins whenever we get one, and we’re delighted to be off the hook. But the general consensus around here . . .”
“Tell me.” Though I knew what she was about to say.
“Watch yourself. Dmitri Sevastyan is too good to be true.”
CHAPTER 31
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I woke from an afternoon nap to find Dmitri sitting up against the headboard, staring out at the mist over the water. He wore only broken-in jeans, his chest bare.
I’d never seen him this still when awake. And his eyes were so vulnerable. What was he thinking about in his mixed-up mind? Reliving the past? Or imagining his future?
With me.
For the last two weeks, a dense fog had blanketed the property, magnifying the unseen splashes out in the ocean and the haunting