Champagne Venom (Orlov Bratva, #1)(128)

“I mean, she thought we had a rinky-dink little business we were looking to grow. She didn’t know about my side gig with your Bratva. If she’d known, she’d have stopped me. And we needed the

money.”

“Enough that you started stealing more,” I say. “Did you filter the money you stole from me through your business?”

Anthony nods.

“Which means you were stealing from me long before Petyr Ivanov came knocking. That’s why they thought you could be turned.”

He’s not even bothering to wipe the sweat off his forehead anymore. It drips down the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, okay… I stole a little here and there. But in the grand scheme of Orion’s business, what I took was pennies.”

“They were my fucking pennies.”

His eyes flare with panic. “I stole about fifty grand over the last five years,” he says, talking fast now.

“That’s it! A-and… I’ll pay it all back. I swear, I’ll pay it all back.”

“To what end? What do you expect me to do once you’ve returned what you stole?”

“My life,” he bargains. “I want my life.”

I’m not about to promise this son of a bitch anything just yet. “What was the thinking behind leaving Paige penniless? You cleaned out all her bank accounts. You said you left to protect her. How does turning your wife out on the street keep her safe, mudak? ”

A bead of sweat rolls right into his eye. He blinks it away. “I… I needed the money. It costs a lot to disappear. I needed a new identity and a car, all that shit! Paige is resourceful and hardworking. I knew that she’d land on her feet. I just didn’t expect her to land with you.”

That dull, heavy feeling in my gut twists. My mind is scrambling to remember the bile I spewed at her at the hospital. How venomous it was. How boiling.

How wrong.

“I thought disappearing would save her from this world. I thought she’d be off Petyr’s radar once I was no longer in the picture, y’know? But when it became clear that she had gotten tangled deeper in his web, I knew I had to come back and do something. I know it doesn’t seem like it but… I did love Paige. I do love Paige.” I walk around my table. Anthony recoils another two steps back. “A-are you going to kill me?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” I tell him honestly.

He gulps and looks around the room, as though searching for an escape hatch. He’s pushed all his bets on this conversation, hoping I’ll be merciful rather than vengeful.

I’m caught between the two only because of my own guilt.

I turned on Paige.

I hurt her.

So much so that she sought refuge in my mother’s house. I’m mostly preoccupied with that part of it.

Less concerned with gutting Anthony as a lesson and more concerned with how I’m going to fix the damage I’ve caused to the woman he left behind.

“I’ll disappear,” Anthony promises. “You’ll never have to see me again. I won’t come near Paige. I won’t bother you ever again.”

Another thing occurs to me out of nowhere. “How did Petyr know that Paige was allergic to chamomile?”

Silence. The most tense, strangled silence I’ve ever heard. It’s like I can hear the subtle hiss of his last hopes deflating from his lungs.

Anthony’s throat bobs up and down. “It just kinda slipped out one day. I wasn’t giving him information. I didn’t mean for him to use it.”

“You are fucking stupid,” I snarl. “And you have too much information now.”

Anthony’s composure starts to crumble slowly. “Please! Please don’t kill me. I came to you. I could have just run, but I care about Paige. We spent eight years together. I just want her to be okay.”

“Why did you fake your marriage?” I demand.

He opens his mouth, then closes it again. He’s the stupidest fucking goldfish I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“You better talk fast,” I warn, “because I’m losing patience.”

Anthony flinches like I hit him. “My parents didn’t approve of Paige. They knew about her background and they thought I deserved better. But she was all up in arms about gettin’ married, you know? She wanted it bad. So…”

“So you lied to her,” I growl, shaking my head. “Disgusting. If you ever thought that about Paige, if you ever doubted her, then you can’t claim to love her. Not now. Not ever.”

“It’s complicated,” he says urgently. “I do love her. I just…”

It’s all hitting a little close to home. After all, I doubted her up until a few minutes ago. What does that say about my love for her?

“You’re a worm, Anthony,” I tell him. “A sniveling, pathetic little worm. Maybe you do love her, but one thing’s for damn sure: you don’t deserve her.”

He looks at me curiously for a moment. “You care about her.”

“She’s my wife,” I snarl. “It’s my duty to take care of her. Something you failed to do. Now, get out, Anthony. Leave before I change my mind.”

I press the intercom next to my desk. Konstantin picks up on the other end. I’m sure he’s been waiting breathlessly for the call. “Come in here.”