The Player (The Game Maker #3)(66)

Oh, and I wouldn’t report the Porsche stolen.

All told, I’d need . . . three mil.

She imitated me: “Hi, Dmitri, I know we’ve only been married a week, but I need a blank check for a fortune, and I can never tell you why. Though this would definitely spur any sane man to investigate me, please don’t. ’Kay? Thanks, baby.”

I didn’t want to frame my dilemma as how much I love my parents versus how much I trust a virtual stranger to give me millions.

He was unbelievably generous, but could he sign a blank check—with no questions asked?

If he refused, he’d be suspicious once I lost my ring. Even if he said yes about the money, he might still investigate my family more intensively.

I would be risking everyone I loved, rolling the dice on a man I’d known for mere days—a man with a troubled past.

One who didn’t seem interested in divulging much more about it.

So far, I’d garnered only tidbits of his background. When I’d asked him about his parents, he’d said, “I loved my mother dearly.” His gaze had gone distant, but his eyes had been full of affection. “My brothers were older and often off by themselves, so I spent most of my days with her. She taught me how to play chess and ride horses. She used to sing to me.” Yet he’d refused to talk about his father at all.

Though I still had no idea how his parents had died within two years of each other, I hadn’t pressed. He believed once he shared his secrets, I would share mine, and I wanted to postpone that as far into the future as possible. Read: indefinitely.

Karin said, “If he finds out we played him, he could get that postnup overturned. You would be left with nothing.” She sighed into the phone. “Pete knew this would happen. He told me to remind you we’re a different breed.”

The only thing we can’t cheat is fate. . . .

Dmitri had already been betrayed by someone he’d trusted, likely his abuser, a person who’d targeted and deceived him.

I had targeted and deceived him. My family had manipulated him, arranging for him to run afoul of my ex. Despite our motivations, how could he ever get over the similarities?

I recalled his eyes dimming as he’d said, “We always find out in the long run, do we not?”

“Vice, I’m going to tell you something I’ve never revealed to anyone.” Karin paused, then said, “I considered coming clean about all of us to Walker. I would’ve bet the house that he loved me. He’d told me he did.” I pictured the adoring way that man had looked at her. “He and I have a child together, and he still deserted me and Cash. I know how easy it is to get blinded.”

On the surface, Dmitri and Walker had a lot in common, both so rich and proud. Would Dmitri react like Walker? Would I react like Karin and never get over the heartache?

Did I believe in that Sevastyan devotion? Or the tears she’d shed?

“Text me your plan,” she said. “Today.”

“Tell me how you would play this.”

She didn’t hesitate. “I’d ignore my starstruck infatuation, shuck his thrall, divorce the guy I barely know before he divorced me, and take him for all he’s worth. Then the family would be safe, and we could all be together again. That’s all we’ve dreamed about for months. Don’t you want that too?”

“Of course.”

“To the grave, hon.”

I gazed down at my ring. To the grave.





CHAPTER 30

When I entered the study, Dmitri said, “I finished early so I can take you shopping down the coast.”

Of course you did, because you’re affectionate and thoughtful. “That sounds really nice.”

His brows drew together at my pensive expression. “What’s wrong?” He stood.

I joined him by the desk. “Not a thing.”

“Come now, even I can tell something’s amiss.” He rested his hands on my shoulders. “Moya zhena, you can talk to me about anything.”

I gazed up into his eyes. Between this closeness and his touch, my path seemed to gain clarity, Karin’s words fading. After all, she didn’t know how wonderful Dmitri was. And hadn’t she said any sane man would need to investigate?

My husband was a little crazy.

The grift sense I’d relied on all my life was telling me to shoot for the guy, the ring, and the cartel payoff. If I believed everything he’d told me since we’d met, then he would do this for me.

Trusting another man, Vice? “I . . . what if I asked you for something I knew was unfair?”

He swallowed, his voice going hoarse as he said, “Divorce?”

“No!”

He blew out a breath, staggering back into his seat. “Then I don’t give a goddamned f*ck what you ask for. Wife wants; wife gets, remember?”

“But it won’t make sense unless you drill down on it or dig. And I know how badly you need things to make sense.”

His lips curved. “You’re already learning me well.”

I backed up a step. “I’m sorry; this was a mistake. Temporary insanity.” Had I really just said that? Shit, Vice, get it together!

He shot to his feet, moving between me and the door. “I refuse to let you leave until you tell me what’s making you unhappy. You know I’ll keep us here till we starve.”