The Player (The Game Maker #3) - Kresley Cole Page 0,99
once you revealed yours. Explaining what I’d done would have been a lot easier—after you disclosed what you and your family did for a living.”
Good point. Again.
“I never lied, Vika.”
The grifter in me had to applaud his smoothness; it could be argued I simply hadn’t been asking the right questions. I would try to now. “Is there anything else you haven’t told us that I would like to know? Are there any more secrets?”
“Da. Since I first learned your address, I’ve had one of my men watching over you. When I wasn’t.”
I knew it! I couldn’t decide what level of creepy that was.
“You are the most precious thing to me in the world; how could I not protect you?”
When he put it that way, creepy seemed a bit extreme.
“In fact, each of you had a detail until I was satisfied the cartel danger had passed completely.”
I gazed over all of my family, lingering on little Cash. Dmitri had safeguarded each of us when we’d needed it most.
As if he was already a member of our pack.
He parted his lips to say more, then hesitated.
I shook my head warningly. “Spit it out.”
“The cartel was embarrassed to have been swindled. They wanted to make an example of your father.”
My gaze shifted to my parents. Mom’s nails dug into Dad’s arm. How close she’d come to losing him . . . He covered her hand, expression grave.
My lips moved wordlessly. Instead of having this conversation, I could be putting flowers by a tombstone right now, sick with the knowledge of how much my Dad had been tortured.
That was the checkmate.
Dmitri turned to Karin. “You should know the father of your child spies on you. Every Tuesday and Friday when you take Cash to the park.”
Karin clutched her son closer, her face lighting up.
Dmitri added, “But also outside of the, uh, camera house.”
Her face fell. To Walker, it would look like she’d slept with tons of lechers.
We would deal with that in time.
Dmitri turned back to me. “Now you know everything. Vika, I have no secrets left.”
The anxiety I’d struggled with disappeared, because there was nothing left to ping my radar. He’d laid all his cards on the table.
My grift sense was finally at ease.
He took another step closer, his eyes solemn amber. “This past year was torture—I heard your voice and saw you, but I wasn’t able to talk to you or touch you. Every day I tormented myself wondering if you could love me back. Yet I would do it all over again.” His voice broke lower when he said, “Understand me, moya zhena, I would do the whole thirty-two years over again.”
My breath left me. The magnitude of what he was saying . . .
I glanced around. Gram and Al raised glasses in approval. Karin nodded emphatically. Benji gave me a thumbs-up, and Pete mouthed, Duh.
Mom and Dad held hands, looking so in love, a shining example that fairy tales did in fact exist. Well, when they were so perfectly matched. . . .
It fully sank in that Dmitri Sevastyan hadn’t just pulled a single con. He hadn’t merely utilized tricks of confidence artistry. Grifting was a life choice, and he’d lived it for a year, learning our lingo and our ways to become a master. An aristocrat grifter. The con who played cons.
Getting played never felt so good.
I crossed the short distance to my husband. “Dmitri, you’re not a gull.” Hadn’t I called him a thrall from night one?
“I . . . no, I don’t suppose I am.” Hope flared in his eyes. “Perhaps I’m starting to read people better. Because I think you’re about to kiss me.” He murmured, “Do it, Vika.”
Two tears in a bucket. Right now I didn’t feel as if I’d be reaching for the stars; I felt as if I’d be claiming what was mine. My due. I clasped him close and rose up on my toes. Then I kissed my husband.
A grifter for a grifter. . . .
EPILOGUE
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One wedding dress later . . .
You would think I’d given Dmitri the moon.
From our bedroom balcony, I watched him showing off his ring to his groomsmen—Maksim, Aleks, Pete, and Benji—at our reception.
Glorious did not begin to describe my husband in a tux.
In fact, the five of them made quite a picture, all of them formally dressed, lit by the brilliant fire-red and gold sunset over the Pacific.
Karin, my maid of honor, and bridesmaids Lucía and Nat had just helped me gather the train of my gown