Page 59 of Thorns of Love

I shrugged. “Well, you get so red every time I bring up Enrico Marchetti. I worry your cheeks might remain stained forever.”

“My fucking complexion sucks,” she muttered.

“I think it’s beautiful.” She just rolled her eyes, then took a sip of wine. Both of us gave up on Italian food, but not Italian men. “Now, about Marchetti–”

She reached across the table and grabbed a piece of broccoli. When my eyebrow raised, she just muttered, “It goes good with the wine.”

“If you say so.”

“I do,” she muttered. “And there’s nothing about Enrico Marchetti to tell.” I studied her, refusing to believe that. I was certain there was plenty to tell. She sighed. “Okay, it was just one night.”

One night. With the hot daddy. Jesus Christ. Illias would blow a gasket. Whatever the business partnership the two had going, it’d go up in smoke.

“Does your brother know?” I asked while a plan started to form in my mind. Nikita was on me like fly on shit while Illias was gone. However, when he was around, he usually stayed away. It might be my chance to get out of here and search out the answers.

Marchetti would have them since it was clear he’d wanted Adrian dead.

Isla snickered. “God, no. My brother still thinks I’m twelve.” Well, that sounded familiar. I got wild in college, dragging Isabella with me into trouble. My first taste of freedom and I flew like a bird. No regrets.

“You don’t think your brother would approve? After all, Marchetti and Illias are friends,“ I remarked dryly.

And partners in crime, I added silently. I needed to know exactly what Adrian’s crime was.

Her eyes flickered to me, watching me strangely. “They don’t know each other.”

She grabbed a piece of carrot and bit into it. The sound of her crunching filled the kitchen. Tension seemed to grow with each crunch, reaching high levels. There was something off and Marchetti was the connection. At least it seemed that way.

“What makes you think they don’t know each other?” I couldn’t force myself to lie to her. It was obvious at Maxim’s funeral that they knew each other. And then there was the phone call. And my memory. Marchetti and Konstantin weren’t just mere acquaintances.

A freaking year! It took a whole goddamn year to get to this point and remember that night. The therapist knew what he was talking about, after all. My memories from the accident came back when I was ready to handle them. Yet, I couldn’t shake off the slight taste of betrayal that Illias had left me in the dark.

He should have fucking told me.

“What makes you think they do?” she asked, studying me curiously. I’d have to be careful with her. She was too observant.

I shrugged. “Bad assumption, I guess,” I answered vaguely and filled her glass back up.

At the other end of the kitchen, Nikita watched us. He couldn’t hear our conversation. I was never fond of bodyguards lurking like dark shadows around me. Well, Nikita seemed to be determined to become exactly that. It drove me fucking nuts.

“Hey, Nikita,” I yelled across the kitchen. “Want a drink?”

His expression remained unmoved, but something flickered in his gaze. Annoyance maybe. He was probably pissed to have to stay back and watch over us women. Isla said he usually traveled everywhere with Illias but this time, her brother insisted he remained behind with us.

He didn’t trust anyone else to keep us safe.

“Don’t taunt him,” Isla whispered, downing her drink. “He’ll get mad.”

I snickered. “I think it might be too late for that.”

“I don’t think he likes watching us,” she muttered.

I shrugged. “Well, he’s free to leave anytime,” I remarked as I refilled Isla’s glass.

“You’re going to get me drunk,” she complained, her speech slightly slower already. She was well on her way. “Then take advantage of me.”

She was funny. How did Isla have such a serious brother? Probably the same way I did. Vasili was all bossy, serious, and no fun. Sasha was special. A bit on the crazy side. And then there was me. A perfect angel.

“You have to drink for both of us.” I put the bottle down, then rubbed my belly. “And I promise my hands will never touch you,” I teased.