Page 85 of Malicious Marriage

I lift my head and shake it, then pick up the beer and take several gulps.

“Shit. When you turned up asking questions, I was worried you were here for me.”

“Why?”

“The family I ran from doesn’t take kindly to deserters. And if they found out where I was? I’d be dead before I even finished that sentence.”

It’s either his calm demeanor or the offer of a distraction that doesn’t involve this web of lies I’ve found myself in, but I latch onto that information. “Who are you?”

“My real name is Alexei Kuznetsov.”

Kuznetsov? What are the fucking chances of that? “Kuznetsov,” I repeat as I straighten up a little. “Fancy that. But wait, you said you were going to marry Hailey and then come back. Wouldn’t that also have gotten you killed?”

Duke sighs. “Back then, we thought coming back would grant me protection with the power Hailey’s dad had. He was a decent, terrifying man. But with him gone, there was suddenly no one in our corner.”

“Makes sense.” It’s about the only damn thing that does.

“But you know my name.” Duke slowly leans against the bar. “The look on your face when I said it. You tried to hide it but I saw it.”

I’ll chalk that down to my head being so insanely full right now that keeping track of my emotions is a struggle. “Yeah, I know the Kuznetsovs.”

“Not on good terms?”

My eyes narrow slightly. Is it wise to trust this guy? At this point, my instincts for trust seem to be way off so the fact that it feels like a bad idea might work in my favor. “My family, the Savoys, had a weapons deal with them. A pretty fucking good one, if I say so myself. We were the supplier, they were the buyer, and they also sold a portion to smaller organizations like the Cartel. But they pulled out randomly after about a month or so of smooth sailing. And you can imagine I didn’t take kindly to being screwed over.”

“I’m not surprised,” Duke murmurs. “My family has long been tangled with the Byrnes. That’s actually how Hailey and I met.”

“What?” My back turns poker straight. “Are you serious?”

“Hundred percent. That bastard Malcom always had underhanded deals with them. Initially, I thought Hailey’s interest in me was because her father caught onto those deals and sent her to investigate, but she didn’t care about any of that.”

My frown deepens. “I looked into Russian men who vanished and I never once saw that the Kuznetsovs lost a son.”

“Your time frame was six months, though, right?” Duke’s head tilts. “Remember, we ran away four years ago.”

“Shit. You’re right.”

“Mmhmm. But my family has always been locked with the Byrnes. Did all their dirty work. It was drilled into us how vital the partnership was, so even when we were asked to help cover up that massive inferno years ago when I was little, it didn’t matter that we lost people in the fire. All that mattered was that Malcom was happy.”

A fire. “What fire?”

“You know, the one people always talked about? The party all those teens were at? I was like six at the time, so about twenty-five years ago, give or take. But that warehouse burned down, that old apartment block and like three of the old buildings connected to it. Fucking insane.”

Every detail Duke mentions is like a knife deep in my heart. The fire he details sounds like the exact same fire that killed my brother and sister. The fire that people claim we started in order for my brother to cover up a murder and an unwanted pregnancy. But it can’t be the same fire, can it?

“So honestly,” Duke continues, “I would not be surprised to find out Malcom had something to do with your deal falling through with the Kuznetsovs. Maybe he got jealous or something.”

Holy fucking shit.

It all suddenly clicks into place with such clarity that it’s almost painful. My deal with the Kuznetsovs fell through noteven a week after Malcom turned up and learned I’d married Clover. Is this part of their plan? Clover was the hook and now Malcom has stepped in to start a war?

This is?—

A sudden alert blares from my phone, making both Duke and me jump, and just as I pull it from my pocket, Jack comes sprinting into the bar.

“Dean!” he pants, skidding to a stop. “The car, Bobby’s car! It’s been in a collision!”

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