Chapter 18

"Ah, he's finally climbed out of his marriage bed." Viktor sweeps his arm out toward me as I enter my home office to find my cousins.

"I've been busy." I shrug off his jab. It's only been two days since I took Cora to bed as my wife and kept her there. Other than allowing her up to check on her mother and to get food, I've had her at my side. It's also worked to keep her out of trouble.

"I heard her mother moved in?" Andrei asks.

"Yes. I gave her the guest wing." I nod. "She needs care around the clock and the facility she lived in was unacceptable."

"Of course. Her place is at home then," Viktor agrees. "I'm sure your wife is happy."

I shrug like Cora's happiness has nothing to do with my decision. But only an idiot wouldn't notice how much lighter she is with her mother close by.

"My accountant will be here in an hour. Have we found anything out about the investigation?" I point my question to Andrei.

He frowns. "I have."

"Good. What is it?"

"Nothing official." He leans back in his chair. "But it looks like a new detective is trying to make a name for himself."

"Some low-level asshole was investigating a carjacking that led him to Jimmy Agosti, which led him to Michael Agosti, and while he was snooping around that, he came across an old car theft that led him to Marlena's name being dropped." Viktor's tone lowers when he mentions his woman.

"And looking into her led them to you, which leads to us." I fill in the rest of the blanks. "But you said she hasn't been involved with Agosti for years."

"She hasn't. But like I said, this is some prick wanting to make a name for himself. If he gets Agosti on the car ring, great, or if he gets us on whatever he thinks he can get us on, even better." Viktor's jaw is set firm.

"Is Marlena not being your wife going to cause trouble?" Andrei asks before I have a chance to.

"I won't force her." He levels a stare on me. "Yet."

"Is it an issue?" I repeat Andrei's question.

"I don't doubt her loyalty." His hand fists on his knee.

"We don't either," I say. "But is there danger to us, or her?"

He shakes his head. "From the cops? No. They have nothing on her they can use, and Michael will protect her, too. But we need to find out who is talking to this detective. If it really is one of our men, we have a bigger problem than some off the books investigation."

"Agreed." Andrei turns his attention to me. "So. Now that you're married, what happens with the Kustov businesses?"

"That's what the accountant is coming over for. He's going to update me on all the financials. I've been looking at them since they were sent over on Saturday and there's plenty of room for growth. There are three divisions. The one we want the most is the armor division, but first I need to find out everything I can about the company."

"You've been looking at balance sheets since your wedding?" Viktor looks at me as though I've grown three heads through my neck.

I cock my head. "She sleeps like the dead."

"Wait." He laughs, waving a hand in the air. "You bring your work into bed with you?"

"Keep your mind out of my bed." I arch an eyebrow. "Especially when my wife is in it."

"Maybe he doesn't understand what's supposed to happen between husbands and wives in bed," Viktor laughs again.

Before I can throw my fist into his face, there's a knock on my office door. It quietly opens only a moment later and Cora walks in.

She sees my cousins and stops, her cheeks blushing.

"Sorry. I didn't realize you had company." She nods to each of them. "Hi, Andrei. Viktor."

I step in front of them.

"What are you doing?" I ask, taking in the uniform.

She's wearing a pair of black slacks and an untucked white button-down blouse with a name tag pinned on her chest. A black apron dangles from her left hand while her purse is draped from her shoulder.

"I'm leaving for work, I just stopped to let you know, I got a second shift, so I won't be home—er—back until late." She brushes a loose strand of hair that fell from her high ponytail behind her ear. "And I need my car keys."

"Work?" The word burns like acid on my tongue. "What work?"

"The country club," she answers, glancing to the left of me.

"With that asshole? No." I shake my head. "You don't need to work. I told you that already."

"Sergei." She lowers her voice. "I'm not going to fight with you, but I have to go. I'm due to start in half an hour, and I'm not sure what traffic's going to be like."

I wrap my arm around her shoulders and lead her back to the door, out into the hallway. "You're not working."

"You're being unreasonable." She squares off with me. "I told you last week that I was looking for a job. We never discussed me not working at all."

"You're being difficult." I pull the door closed slightly. It's not enough for them not to overhear if they really want to, but I'm not going to chastise her in front of them. As bratty as the woman can be, she's not a child.

"Sergei. I need money."

"I have more than enough."

"That's your money," she says as easily as if she were telling me my shoes were untied.

"You're my wife. Are you suggesting that I won't take care of you?" My jaw aches from controlling my voice this much.

"You're already doing way more than we agreed. It's only right I have a job for my own expenses. And it's only part time. I don't get shifts here often, so I have to take them when I get them."

"You have a job already."

"If you say my job is to take care of the house and be at your beck and call, I will kick you. I don't care if your cousins are in there." Her cheeks flame with her threat, and I'm sure she would do it.

Or at least she'd try.

"I have a staff that takes care of the house," I scoff. "School. You're supposed to be looking into school. That's your job," I repeat.

She looks surprised. Like I'd forget the conversation we had only a day before. As though I'd forget anything she tells me.

"Consider this next year as your time to work on that."

"But when it's over, I'll need work experience."

"When this is over…" I pause, I hate that fucking phrase. "If it comes to that, you'll have money. You won't be turned out without income."

She eyes me suspiciously. "You're not just trying to keep me locked up here?"

"You said you like working at a coffee shop, you can do that. There's one two blocks down, I'll have someone take you."

"I don't need a chaperone."

"Security," I correct. "And you do."

"I can't just not show up for my shift though. And I agreed to take on someone else's. They'll be short if I don't go."

"This is the boss who berated you in front of a restaurant full of people, yes? The one who kept jabbing his finger at you while he was mistreating you?" He's lucky he still has his fucking fingers at all.

"Well, yeah. But it's not him I care about. The other servers will have a harder night if I don't go."

Of course, she would think of them first.

"It will be taken care of," I say, already sending a text message out to get a waitress from one of our restaurants over to the country club.

"What do you mean?" She raises up to her toes and tries to peer over my phone.

"They won't be short staffed, and you won't be going. Get out of that uniform and burn it."

"Burn it?" She laughs. "You hate me having a job that much?"

"No, I hate how it hides your body. It's too big."

"It's not too big. It's comfortable like this. It hides…" She lets the words die off when her eyes meet mine.

I cross my arms over my chest and tilt my head. "Hides what?"

"My bulges," she says softly. "It's not a knock at me, it's just the truth. No one wants to see that…" She trails off again, when I start to shake my head.

"It's better for your ass if you don't finish that statement." I snatch the apron from her hands. "Now, go. Get changed."

I leave her in the hallway with her eyes wide and her cheeks pink and shut the office door behind me.

"You're keeping her locked away in the castle?" Viktor questions when I throw her apron into the trash bin.

"I won't have her working for that asshole at the country club." I move to my desk. "Don't you have places to be, work to do? The accountant will be here soon."

"For the time being, only our top men are to be trusted. We need to find a way to weed out the traitor." Andrei gets up from his seat and buttons his suit jacket. "Igor is back from Russia; I'm putting him on it. He's our best."

I nod. "He is."

"I'm meeting with him this afternoon; I'll bring him up to date," Viktor agrees.

"Good." I take a seat and open my laptop. I want to go over the numbers again before the accountant gets here and starts throwing them at me.

Viktor walks out, already on the phone calling Marlena to check in.

"Sergei." Andrei stands at the front of my desk, his face twisted with concern.

"What?"

"About the divorce."

"There isn't going to be one," I announce. "Not yet anyway. We have time."

"Sergei. It's against our family tradition." His voice dips. "I understand you have no interest in marriage, especially after Victoria?—"

"Don't bring her into this," I cut him off. "The agreement Cora and I have is for one year."

His eyes darken. "Then there's time for you to come to your senses."

I lean back in my chair, steepling my fingers. "Or for you to come to the realization that not all traditions need to continue forever." The words are mine, but nothing inside of me agrees with them. Tradition keeps us rooted, keeps us who we are.

He shakes his head. "There's time," he says and walks out.