Page 14 of Devious Truth (Vicious Sinners #3)

L ike breadcrumbs leading Gretel to the fiery oven of the witch, droplets of blood lead up the stone stairs to the main entrance of the magnificent mansion Ivan’s taken me.

Ivan shoves open the front door and pulls me along with him into the massive foyer.

“He’s downstairs. The doc’s with him now.” A man, one I’ve seen at Obsidian dozens of times, informs us.

“What the fuck happened?” Ivan snaps but doesn’t wait for a response before he stalks down the hallway.

Unsure of what to do, I stay planted. There’s obviously a crisis, and I shouldn’t be here.

“Vivienne!” Ivan stops at the end of the hall, holding out his hand to me.

“You should go with him,” Yosef says quietly, as though he’s giving me some great life advice.

I kick out of my heels and snatch them up before hurrying down the hall. Ivan grasps my hand when I catch up to him and pulls me along with him to a door.

Thankfully, I’ve already taken my shoes off or the stairs leading down to the basement would probably have me falling onto my face. Ivan turns to the left when he steps off the wooden staircase, still tugging me along.

He shoves through another door, and then down a short corridor until he comes to a metal door. The same droplets of blood that led us up the front stairs has brought us to this place. Though there’s more of it here on the floor outside the door.

We’re in some sort of secret part of the house. Terrible things happen down here. I can feel it deep in my bones. The goose pimples crawling across my skin confirm it.

Ivan shoves the door open. The overwhelming scent of blood and death fills my nose. I step to the side, yanking my hand back from Ivan.

He’s in full dominance mode now.

“What the fuck happened?” He moves to the metal table where Kaz lays unconscious with his shirt cut open.

Blood soaks the scraps of material hanging from his body. More of it is dried and splattered on his chest. The doctor twists at the sound of Ivan’s demand, and the bullet wound comes into full view.

My stomach rolls at the sight.

Everyone starts talking at once.

“He was at dinner when two of DeAngelo’s men came into the restaurant.” Alexander’s jaw tightens as he stares down at his youngest brother.

“They shot him in a fucking restaurant?” Ivan’s hands fist at his sides. “Did you get the bullet out?”

The doctor looks between the two hulking men staring him down. Probably unsure of which question Ivan’s wanting answered first.

“Not yet. I need you all out so I can work.” He looks to Alexander.

“We’ll be in the hall.” Alexander steps around the table, giving his little brother one last look. “Nothing happens to him.”

If the doctor is intimidated by the threat underlying Alexander’s words, he does an amazing job of hiding it. He gives a curt nod, then starts going through the cart beside the table and gathering materials.

Ivan gently coaxes me from the room and into the hall.

“Maybe I should go,” I say, but Ivan’s already talking with Alexander. He doesn’t hear me.

“Do we know who it was?”

“Two low levels.” Alexander wipes his hands on his pants. Blood covers his fingers. “Gregori killed one; the other is waiting for us.”

“Kaz doesn’t go to dinner alone, who was with him?”

Alexander’s eyes wander over to me. I press myself further against the wall. If only I could disappear.

If I needed any more reason to stay away from Ivan, it’s being provided to me right now. He’s dangerous. His whole world is dangerous.

Just because he can make me leave all sense behind with a simple touch and a kiss isn’t enough reason to dive into this world with him.

Alexander takes a call and steps away. I take my chance to get Ivan’s attention.

“Maybe I should go,” I say, tugging on his sleeve.

He leans forward and gestures to someone behind me. “Take her upstairs. Elana and Megan are up there.”

“Wait, no, I mean I should go home.” I grab him again.

“Not yet. Not until I know it’s safe.” He beckons his minion again.

Alexander gets off the call and Ivan turns back to him. They’ve switched to Russian now, a clear indication neither of them wants me to know what’s happening.

I already know everything I need to know. Kaz went to dinner and got a hole blown into his chest by a rival family. And if it had been Ivan and me at that restaurant? Would Ivan be lying half dead on that metal slab, or would it be me?

Panic grips me again, and I clutch at my throat.

Realizing I’m still there, Ivan turns to me. His eyes soften.

“Hey. It’s okay. He’s going to be all right.” He grips my shoulders, crouching slightly until our eyes meet. “Take a breath, baby. Breathe.”

Nodding because talking isn’t an option at the moment, I slowly draw in air. He takes the breath with me, encouraging me to do another, then another until finally the panic eases away.

“I shouldn’t have let you see that.” He runs the back of his knuckles across my jaw.

He’s mistaking my reaction to seeing Kaz’s injury. Deciding its better we don’t get into any bigger discussion right now, I let him believe it’s the horror of seeing a man shot.

“I’m fine. I really should go home.”

He grasps my chin. “You can’t. Not yet. Stay upstairs with the girls. I’ll take you when it’s safe.”

When I open my mouth to argue, he leans in close.

“Putting yourself in danger is the number one way to find yourself face down over my knee getting your ass spanked. And no amount of tears or begging will make me stop until I’m certain you’ve learned your lesson,” he says firmly.

There’s no mistaking his words or his sincerity.

“I’ll wait upstairs,” I agree.

“Good girl.” He kisses my cheek. “Go on.”

Pulling my stole tighter around my shoulders to ward off the slight chill of the basement corridor, I follow my escort back up to the main house. Once back up on the first floor, I slip my feet back into my shoes.

“Vee.” Megan, Alexander’s wife, gets up from the kitchen table when I’m escorted inside.

“Hi.” I fidget with the stole.

“Ivan’s downstairs, then?” She pulls out the chair beside her.

“Yeah.”

The young woman sitting at the table must be Elana. The youngest of the Volkov siblings. I’ve heard her mentioned, but she’s never been at the club when I’m there, so we’ve never met.

“The doctor’s working on Kaz now; he seemed positive.” I try to sound cheerful, but not too cheerful.

I’m not happy Kaz was shot, just that I’m sure he’s going to be all right.

Elana drags two hands through her hair and takes a shutters breath. “He shouldn’t have been at that restaurant. Why would he go there?”

“Which restaurant was it?” I drape my stole over the back of the chair.

I can’t sit still right now. My nerves are frayed, my mind is racing, and my soul is still trying to extinguish the fire he started at the museum.

“Vita Dolce.” Elana shoves out of her chair with such force it topples to the floor. “Roberto Orsini owns it.”

She picks up the chair.

“Who’s Roberto Orsini?” Megan asks.

“His son just got engaged to Maria De Luca.” Elana pauses, waiting for us to catch up with her.

“Do you know what that means?” Megan questions me.

“No idea.” I sink into a chair. “I’ve never heard of her.”

Elana rolls her eyes. “Marco’s father was her godfather.”

“Marco DeAngelo’s dead father is, or rather was, Maria De Luca’s godfather, and Maria just became engaged to Roberto Orsini’s son.” Megan raises her eyebrows. “Am I right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m guessing it’s the Marco DeAngelo being related to this Maria that’s the problem.” I point out.

Elana rounds the kitchen island and heads straight for the wine rack.

“Exactly. With that engagement it means that Vita Dolce is off limits until my brothers can stop this war they’re having with the DeAngelos.”

“Roberto probably called Marco to tell him that Kaz was eating there.” Megan’s fingers splay across her lips, her eyes widening. “Oh god, that’s how they were able to just walk into the restaurant like they did.”

Elana digs around several drawers, opening them and slamming them until she finally finds a bottle opener.

“Kaz should have known; he shouldn’t have been there.” She gets to work on opening the bottle of wine.

Megan pulls out three red wine glasses and places them beside the bottle on the kitchen island.

“What about the woman that was with him?” I move to the kitchen island, needing to be on my feet.

There’s something too intimate about sitting at a kitchen table in this house. It’s not meant for outsiders like me.

Elana shakes her head. “She’s fine.”

Megan continues, “She’d gone to the restroom just before the men entered the private room they were having dinner in. Probably scared out of her mind, but she’s physically okay.”

“Yeah, something like that could really put a girl off. Your date getting shot?” I try to push on a light smile, but the air is too heavy.

Elana takes a large gulp of her wine as her eyes sweep over me, as though really seeing me for the first time since I entered the kitchen.

“You were on a date with Ivan.” The glass clinks against the marble countertop.

“No, I mean, not a date really. I just went with him to the Children’s hospital charity dinner.” I smooth my hand down my hip, realizing our bathroom activities has torn the slip a quarter inch.

Megan chuckles, grabbing up a glass of wine and toasting it toward me. “That’s a date, Vee.”

“No, it wasn’t?—”

“If you went to a public charity dinner with Ivan, it was every bit a date.” Using the stem of the glass, Elana pushes the last glass of wine in my direction.

Should I explain it was just a job? That he’s paying me fifty thousand dollars for tonight?

My face heats, and I snatch up the glass of wine, gulping down half of it. Pronounced notes of blackberry and cracked pepper rolls over my tongue. It’s followed by a smokey heat and a hint of dark chocolate.

“This is good.” I take another sip. They probably don’t shop the discount bins for their wine.

Elana pours more into my glass before topping off her own.

A call comes through her phone, and as soon as the screen lights up, she snatches it and hurries to the far end of the kitchen to answer it.

“How’s your hand?” Megan points to my long-healed injury.

“It’s fine.” I turn it palm up to show her. “How’s…well, marriage?”

She laughs. “It’s been a roller-coaster so far.”

“And it’s not getting any better, huh?”

“He was shot! They shot him!” Elana’s voice carries over to us.

“Did you see Kaz?” I ask Megan.

“No. They brought him in and went straight downstairs before I could.”

“It’s not that bad. I mean it’s not great, but I think he’s going to be all right.” I have no idea if I’m right or wrong but being negative never helped a situation.

Not that thinking positive ever cured anyone, either. No matter how hard you wish it, sometimes it’s just not possible for the one you love to come back to you.

“How was the evening before Ivan had to come back?” Megan tries to recork the wine bottle.

I think of the kiss in the bathroom. Of Ivan’s eyes on me when he saw me wearing the dress he bought for me. How for a brief hour or two, I felt like Cinderella.

Mind blowing. Soul soaring. Like having life being breathed back into me.

“It was fine.” I hide in my glass, taking a long sip. “The food was good.”

She frowns, looking over my shoulder. Following her gaze, I find Elana with her head in her hand muttering into her phone. It’s hard to understand her, but the words our fault comes through.

“Elana keeps her social life as private as she can, especially with these guys as her brothers,” Megan says as though it explains something.

“She can’t think what happened tonight is her fault?”

“She’s really close to Kaz. She’s just worried.”

Elana ends the call a moment later. Her face is twisted with torment.

“Hey. He’s going to be okay.” Megan wraps her arms around Elana, hugging her tightly. “He’s going to be fine. He’s too arrogant to let a little bullet be his downfall.”

Elana chuckles, pulling back and drawing a deep breath in through her nose.

“You’re right. He’s going to be fine.”

I slide her glass of the Shiraz toward her, and she’s half smiling by the time she picks it up.

It’s an hour before Ivan appears in the kitchen. His tuxedo tie is undone and draped around his neck. The top two buttons of his shirt are open. His thick dark hair is mussed, like he’s been dragging his hands through it for the last sixty minutes.

“How is he?” Elana jumps up from her chair but grabs onto it to steady herself.

She’s polished off the first bottle and is halfway through the second already. Her mind is probably reeling from the quick movement.

“He’s fine.” Ivan brings her into his chest for a hug, squeezing her. “He got lucky. The bullet went straight through just below his clavicle by his armpit.”

His gaze meets mine as his sister steps back from his embrace.

“It looked a lot worse than it was. The doc’s just stitching him up now. He’ll stay here at least until tomorrow. He’ll be sore and stiff for a few weeks, but he’s okay.”

Elana blows out a long breath. “Oh, thank God! Thank God!”

“Is Alexander still down there?” Megan’s already halfway across the kitchen.

“I’ll go with you.” Elana links arms with her and they disappear.

“I’m glad he’s okay.” I fold my arms over my stomach.

“Me too.” His eyes are tired; he’s aged at least five years down there waiting.

“You’ve been drinking?” He picks up the empty bottle of Shiraz.

“I had two glasses. I’m fine.”

Heat returns to his eyes. “Didn’t I say no more after that last glass of champagne?”

“You said last one, and that was my last glass of champagne.” I pick up my stole. “It’s really late, Ivan. I think I should go home.”

Silence falls between us, growing heavier as the moments tick by. His face is unreadable. His jaw tightens.

“Yosef will take you home.” He’s already on his phone tapping out his orders.

“And Ivan…the money, you don’t have to?—”

“It’s already taken care of.” He cuts me off.

A switch has flipped. There’s a chill coming off him that makes no sense. He was all simmer and boil earlier.

“I don’t want the money.”

Yosef appears in the doorway. Ivan turns on his perfectly polished heel and joins Yosef.

“Take her home. Make sure the apartment is secure before you leave,” Ivan orders.

And then he’s gone.