Big Al was waiting for her outside the townhouse, standing next to her Bentley with his usual slightly menacing expression.

  "You know, you can always come wait inside," she said as she passed him the keys to her car after unlocking the doors. It didn't seem terribly comfortable to be waiting outside in the cold, especially in this weather.

  "Noted," he answered, but she doubted he would actually take her up on that unless he absolutely had to. "Where to?"

  "The office," she said, slipping into the back seat.

  It was a short drive from Alfie's place to her building in lower Manhattan, the traffic lighter at this hour.

  Big Al stayed a couple of steps behind her, quiet and light on his feet despite his overall size.

  On the elevator, she watched the floors tick by one by one until the doors opened once more into the main lobby of her studio.

  Frances was already working, the twenty-seven-inch screen of her computer lying flat on her desk as she worked up a sketch for their new project. She glanced up with a soft smile, her brows raised in question.

  "How are you feeling?"

  “Good,” Vera said with a light shrug.

  "All thanks to Alfie, I'm sure," she said, unable to maintain a straight face as her gaze darted to her neck. "That's subtle."

  Vera already knew even as she reached up to cover the spot that was still tender after two days, forgetting that she hadn't bothered to cover that when she got ready this morning.

  Even as she touched it, she could still feel Alfie's teeth right there.

  "I'm glad you have him. He makes you happy."

  She was too, more than she had ever thought possible. Even while there was still so much going on.

  Vera had never anticipated she would willingly enter a relationship with a man like Alfie. One that revered the life and made no apology for it.

  But even as he was unapologetic about the way he made his money and just how good he was at it, he wasn't using it as a weapon against her, and that made all the difference in the world.

  There was her, then there was business, and he made it a point not to overlap the two if he could help it.

  "What's on the agenda for the day?"

  "We need to go over a few contracts and the schedule, but let me grab a coffee, and I'll meet you in your office."

  As Vera ventured into her office and Frances went off to fetch some coffee, she pulled out her phone, shooting off a quick text to Alfie to see if he'd be able to grab lunch with her since he'd be out late.

  Distracted, she didn't hear the elevator ding as the car stopped on her floor or the quiet conversation between the man coming in and her receptionist.

  She didn't notice him at all until he was nearly at her office.

  "Vera, right?"

  She turned in time to see Siris Oswald peek his head in the door, a lock of blond hair falling over his forehead.

  One of Alfie's associates, she remembered.

  She hadn't seen him since the opening, and now that she knew more about Alfie, she was pretty sure whatever he did for a living fell in line with him, rather than what she had originally thought he did.

  He had the face of a man who posed in modeling ads or at least guarded a beach in red shorts instead of standing in her office in a burgundy suit that only he could pull off.

  "You're Siris," she said, glancing past him at Big Al who was still reading a magazine. If he wasn't worried, then she figured she shouldn't be either. "You work with Alfie. Did he send you?"

  He shook his head, looking around her office. "I came looking for—"

  "Siris?" Frances tried and failed to tuck her hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture that Vera had picked up on a long time ago.

  What she didn't know was why she was nervous around Siris, but that didn't mean she didn't enjoy seeing her friend flustered over a guy.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "We had a wager, and I've come to collect."

  A breathless laugh left her as if she wasn't sure whether Siris was serious or not, but when he merely smiled, she stumbled over her words. "About that ... I wasn't thinking clearly. Too much champagne and all."

  Vera covered her smile with her hand as she watched the two of them together. Not only did she not want to interrupt this moment, but she was more than a little curious about the deal they had made that night.

  Especially since Frances had never bothered to mention it.

  "Then I take it that's a no," Siris returned, his grin a little more crooked now. "That should make it easier for you to go out with me, shouldn't it? If that idiot was worth anything, I wouldn't be here now."

  Another nervous touch of her hair. "You don't have to take me to dinner, Siris."

  Vera still didn't know what the wager was or what conspired that night. She also didn't care. "You should absolutely take her to dinner."

  While Frances narrowed her eyes at her, Siris winked. "Boss's orders."

  "It's only noon," she said, seeming at a loss for what to say.

  "Not in Italy," Siris replied just as easily.

  Vera might not have known a thing about Siris, but she already liked him.

  "I have to work."

  "Take the day off," Vera quickly interjected. "You can tell me all about ... this when you get back."

  That was all the permission Siris needed before he stood and crossed the room to take Frances's hand. She didn't even have a chance to argue again.

  More importantly, she deserved it, and Vera didn't mind at all helping her realize it.

  It was late, the waning sunlight sending ribbons of burnt orange and reds through the sky. The temperature had dropped steadily as the day had gone on, but even after working all day—and the interesting run-in with Siris and Frances in her office—Vera wasn’t quite ready to call it a night.

  Instead, she donned running gear and laced up her sneakers, heading for the front door before she changed her mind. She didn’t often go running—she much preferred the treadmill—but today, she wanted a change even if she wasn’t quite sure why.

  The only thing she did know for sure was that she needed to clear her head, and this would be the easiest way to do just that.

  She thought it would be easy—the naïve, foolish part of her—to move on and pretend the past few months hadn’t happened. As if she hadn’t watched from the sidelines as her family was ripped apart and lines were drawn in the sand.

  It had been easy, so easy to take her brother’s side, especially knowing just how their father had hurt him, but even as she had never felt surer of that fact, she still felt … conflicted.

  Dragging in a breath, Vera stepped out onto the stoop and closed the door behind her, her gaze darting up and down the street before coming back to Big Al who stood next to her car with a cigarette tucked between his lips.

  Spotting her, he took one last drag before he flicked it away. “Where to, Miss Markovic?”

  She tried not to laugh at the resigned look on his face because while Alfie had undoubtedly given him orders to make sure she stayed put, he also knew that despite what his boss wanted, Alfie wasn’t the boss of her.

  “Just around the corner and back. I won’t be gone long.”

  He was shaking his head before she even finished. “Alfie wouldn’t—”

  “I don’t think those shoes were meant for running,” she said with a nod of her head at the loafers he wore, “and it’ll take you longer to trail me in my car. I’ll be fine.”

  He shifted on his feet, still looking unconvinced.

  Vera turned, showing him the band on her upper arm where her phone was tucked away. “If I see someone who looks shady, I’ll call you. And if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been taking self-defense classes since I was thirteen. I can handle myself.”

  She wouldn’t say she was the best fighter in the world, but she could hold her own well enough to get away if a situation called for it.

  Though he looked as if he wanted to deny her once more, or at least come up with another argument as to why she should go back inside Alfie’s place and stay there until he returned, he ultimately relented. “You have fifteen minutes. If you’re not back by then and my phone hasn’t rung, I’m calling the boss. Yeah?”

  She nodded. “Duly noted.”

  She took off before he could change his mind, letting her feet carry her down the sidewalk and around the corner. With one click of a button on her headphones, her playlist started, "False Alarm" blaring in her ears, driving her to run faster.

  While she had been confident in telling Big Al that she would be fine, that there was nothing to worry about, her heart did skip a beat as she kept forward, and this time, it had nothing to do with her jogging.

  She hadn’t been there the day her brother’s throat was slit—she had only seen the aftermath and heard what little he had shared with Ruslan about it.

  She could imagine the fear Kazimir had felt as he lay dying on the cold, snow-covered streets alone.

  That it had been Vasily, their own father, waiting for him in the shadows. The last person any of them had expected. He struck when his opponent was vulnerable, but that had always been his way.

  For the longest time, Vera had never suspected her father capable of committing such savagery against his own family. Others, sure—she knew far too well what he was capable of when he felt disrespected—but not them.

  Not like this.

  At least, not anymore.

  Vasily wouldn’t be hurting anyone ever again. Not when he was cold and still in the bottom of a grave in the same cemetery he often frequented because it helped him think.

  Out of breath, Vera paused, stacking her hands on top of her head as she took a breather, glancing at her watch to check how much time had passed. Even though Big Al had allowed her this moment, she didn’t doubt that if she was even a second late, he would come searching for her, no matter what.

  Though only ten minutes had passed, minutes that felt like seconds, she still called him, reassuring him that she was fine and would be heading back soon. She hoped this would buy her some extra time if she wanted to run longer.

  Had she not paused in her run, she might not have noticed the car idling at the curb, exhaust billowing from the tailpipe, but once she did, Vera came up short, plucking one headphone out of her ear and letting it dangle.

  Instinct kept her rooted in place rather than venturing closer to get a better look at whoever lingered inside. She didn’t want to chance anyone sneaking up behind her. And the easiest way to guarantee that didn’t happen was if she kept her distance.

  Before whoever it was could get suspicious, she tugged out her phone from her armband, already dialing for Big Al again just as the rear passenger window slowly rolled down, and a familiar hand appeared—or, rather, the tattoos across the man’s knuckles were familiar.

  She didn’t know many men with HATE tattooed in an old English script across four fingers.

  Even as the worst of her fear dissipated, Vera didn’t let her guard down, just knowing Lachlan was waiting for her made her keep it up.

  Especially considering it was obvious that he had not only been following her but waiting for the opportunity to get her alone.

  “Don’t worry yourself, Vera,” he said as he stuck his head out the opened window next, a wolf’s grin on his handsome face. “I don’t mean you any harm.”

  He could have said that with the most innocent of expressions, and she still wouldn’t have believed him just because it was him.

  But she did take a step in his direction, tucking her phone away. “What are you doing here, Lachlan?”

  The question seemed to be the only invitation he needed as he stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. All the while, he regarded her in that cool, detached manner of his.

  As if she was a stranger.

  He was dressed all in black today, highlighting the paleness of his skin and offsetting the darkness of his eyes and the tattoos that covered his flesh.

  Not for the first time, she couldn’t help but notice the differences between him and Alfie. She wasn’t sure who her lover had been when he lived in London.

  Whether he had been just as careless about human life as Lachlan seemed to be. If he didn’t consider the consequences of his actions the way he did now.

  But while Alfie had changed since then and carried himself differently, Lachlan hadn’t followed suit despite his stint in prison.

  He liked himself as he was, she imagined.

  Even if the rest of the world didn’t.

  “Are you just going to stand over there?” he asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes with a label she couldn’t read.

  He slipped one out, the entire thing black from the filter to the end of it.

  “Considering you’ve been following me, I think I’m fine where I am.”

  “Nonsense.”

  He stepped away from the car, moving closer to her so quickly that she didn’t have a chance to move away before he pulled her forward into a hug. He held her against him for a moment too long until she had to place her hands against his chest and attempt to move away.

  “See?” he said, still with his arms around her, his smile a little too lopsided to be genuine. He didn’t care that she was clearly trying to move away from him. “We’re all friends here, yeah?”

  No, not really.

  But she didn’t bother telling him that. Not that she thought it would make much of a difference.

  Only once he was ready to let her go did he let his arms fall and took a step back, pulling out a black-encased Zippo lighter.

  “What do you want?” she asked again.

  “I thought we could have a little chat, you and me.”

  “You couldn’t come by Alfie’s place and, I don’t know, knock?”

  “I could, yeah, but too many listening ears.”

  Vera folded her arms across her chest, regarding him impassively. “You mean Big Al?” she asked, though it was clear that was who he meant.

  He was the only one of Alfie’s men who stayed with her at all times now. And of all of them, she was sure he was the most loyal as well.

  The guards usually were.

  “I like this better,” Lachlan said with a sweep of his hand around them, ignoring her question entirely. “It’s more private this way.”

  Vera remained silent, not wanting to ask the same question again. She knew his type, and her confusion as to why he was here at all was part of the game for him, so she refused to give him the satisfaction.

  “Alfie’s changed. The bloke I knew wasn’t so …” He seemed to struggle for the right word, looking at her as if she would supply it, but when she didn’t, he finally filled the silence. “Docile. He didn’t stand by, yeah, and let someone disrespect him right to his fucking face. It just wasn’t done.”

  “People change. It happens. And even if he has changed, it wasn’t my doing.”

  The Alfie he was now was a product of his own making, the same man she had met at a bar in Punta de Mita, but she didn’t bother trying to explain that to him. Not only because she didn’t see a point in doing so, but because she doubted he would believe what she said regardless.

  “I don’t know whether you’re good for him is all,” Lachlan said with a shrug, smoke billowing out past his lips as he spoke.

  “It should be about what Alfie thinks, no?”

  He nodded. “Of course, of course. If he hadn’t vouched for you, though, I’d have gotten rid of you already. This is just for peace of mind.”

  He said that with such casual disregard that she almost missed what he hadn’t said.

  “Believe me when I say that wouldn’t have ended well for you if you’d tried.”

  “Alfie would’ve recovered.”

  She clenched her hands to stop herself from doing something rash. “Threaten me again, and he will be the least of your worries.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t a threat.” And his expression said he truly believed there was nothing wrong with what he was saying. “Not at all. I just want what’s best for Alfie, even if he doesn’t see it that way.”

  Vera didn’t doubt he thought that was true. In his own twisted reality, he was merely looking out for his friend’s best interests, but what he failed to see was that he seemed to believe whatever interests those were needed to be approved by him as well.

  “And do you think you and what you want are what’s best for him?”

  “I know him.”

  “And I know his heart. That’s what you seem to be missing. I’m not forcing Alfie to be anything he doesn’t want to be.”

  Lachlan shrugged again, and she knew at that moment, it didn’t matter what she said. Nothing would change his mind.

  “Maybe this is a conversation you should have with him,” she said. “He’ll tell you the same thing.”

  “Right, right. Where is he anyway? He doesn’t tell me anything anymore.”

  He probably blamed her for that too. “He should be picking up his sister from the airport.”

  Lachlan rolled his shoulders as if what she’d said had been the last thing he was expecting.

  For the first time since she met him, he looked … uncomfortable.

  She wouldn’t bother asking why.

  “Are we done here, Lachlan?” she asked, spotting a vague figure in the distance. Big Al, if she had to guess.

  “Off you go, Vera. I won’t keep you.”

  When she moved to step around him, his voice trailed after her.

  “Careful, though. Alfie’d be in a right state if something happened to you.”

  She took off without responding, but she didn’t put her headphones back in, not when she knew he was still there.

  Chapter 18

  Sitting outside JFK International Airport, Alfie waited next to his car as people buzzed all around him.

  When his sister, Feather, had called a few weeks ago asking if she could visit him, he hadn't thought twice about sending her a ticket, but now with everything going on, he wasn't sure if now had really been the best time.

  Too much was happening all around him—too much that was still out of his control.