Page 29

"I'm not the one mistaking a blow job for lifelong commitment, so maybe that point has already been proven. Just because you fell for your bride after she made you come doesn't mean I have the same affliction."

Damien’s chair scraped back as he pulled a knife from his boot.

Artem seized his wrist, forcing him back into his seat while fixing me with a warning glare.

Wives were off-limits.

I knew it, but being the Durak made me reckless. I lifted my chin in Damien’s direction. “Izvini.”

He nodded his acceptance of my apology.

Gregor, ever the strategist, opened with a seven of hearts. A deceptively weak start.

Kostya countered effortlessly, dropping a nine of spades on top.

As always, my brother's defense was impenetrable.

Artem leaned back, calculating his move. "You know, Pavel, it was an interesting choice to leave your gun behind for her to steal.”

Damien nodded, dropping his card without looking.?“Yeah. Nothing screams ‘alpha male’ like getting robbed mid-blow job.”

I?exhaled sharply, rubbing my temples. “You would know, asshole. At least I didn’t tie her up just so she could slip the knots again and again. At least Alina didn’t jump out of a window to get away from me.”

“Yelena didn’t jump out of a window,” he scoffed, then paused. “She just made methinkshe did.”

“Right…but we all know she would’ve if she’d had to. But getting by you was just too fucking easy.” Teasing Damien about Yelena’s skill was acceptable.

I was taking the piss out of him, not insulting his wife.

Well, maybe questioning her choice of spouse, but that was fair game.

“At least I didn’t hand Yelena my gun,” he countered with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’tgivemy gun to her,” I insisted, eyeing my useless cards. “I left her alone for less than a minute. She was supposed to stay put.”

“I guess you’re not as scary as you think if she thought it would be acceptable to disobey you,” Gregor countered, tapping the table with blunt fingers.

I had nothing to counter with. Taking the penalty cards, I muttered, "You want me to shoot you, Gregor?"

"You don't have a gun," Damien wheezed, slapping his knee as the table dissolved into uproarious laughter.

"She tookoneof my guns, not all of them," I muttered, but my defense fell on deaf ears.

"You know what the real problem is?" Gregor mused, slapping down an ace.? "You're growing soft."

Artem pointed his card at me accusingly. "You let her escape…with your gun. If this were a movie, you'd be the dumb American love interest waiting for his balls to drop."

I wanted to point out this all happened after she'd drained said balls dry, but that would only launch a barrage of jokes. I wasn't making it that easy for them.

"The question is," Damien interjected, "did she at least deserve the gun? Was the BJ good enough to warrant a parting gift?"

I flicked my burning cigarette directly at his smug face.

The bastard dodged, laughing as ash scattered across the table.

Worth it.

My mind drifted to her mouth on me, those eyes staring upward, the blend of hatred and reluctant desire.