I knew he didn’t mean it, but he made it sound like I would only drink out of crystal glasses and eat the finest caviar. As though I was a snob. An elitist.
“I’m barely keeping my head above water,” Vik confessed through an exhale. “How am I supposed to take care of you the way you deserve without drowning us both?”
What could I say to that?
Nothing. Not when he insisted on the pity party he was throwing. I thought he knew me better than that. I thought he knew me well enough to know that kind of stuff didn’t matter to me. I would have given it up, all of it, to have him. Put us back in the one-bedroom rickety apartment with the broken toilet. I’d take it so long as I had him.
I already knew the answer to what I was about to suggest but wanted confirmation. “Coming up with that kind of money in such a short amount of time is going to be tough.”
“Not if you’re doing rough work,” he returned.
His disappearance last week. The state of his face. His irritability. It made sense.
“Do I want to know who you’re working for?” I asked through a humorless laugh.
He stared out into the street. “Some guy on the upper east side.”
That was all he gave, but to be honest, it was more than I expected. These things were on a need-to-know basis, and Vik and I had a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy when it came to rough work. It protected him but also protected me. After all, I couldn’t tell anyone what I didn’t know.
This whole situation was shocking. I wanted to help. I needed to help. I just didn’t know how.
A mild silence passed, and Vik straightened. “So, now you know. Happy?”
How could he ask me that?
My expression sad, I let out a barely there, “No.”
A bitter laugh escaped him. “Yeah.” He turned to walk away, speaking as he left me behind. “Me neither.”
I couldn’t believe I was doing this.
And as my eyes swung to the dancer sitting on the sofa in Sasha’s office, I folded my arms over my chest. My jaw ached from how tightly I clenched my teeth together, but for the sake of my brother and this business, I would play nice. For now.
Sasha sat behind his desk, leaning back in his chair as he looked between Lush and me. “You don’t have to get along, ladies. You don’t even have to like each other. But you will be respectful in my place of business.” When his eyes narrowed on me, he went on. “I know you hear me, Nastasia.”
Why was he putting this solely on me?
He knew I had a short fuse, and this bitch made it her job to mess with all my circuits.
I would choke on the words before I apologized.
Ever the dutiful sibling, I responded, “I hear you, brother mine.”
“Good.” He appeared somewhat appeased. My stomach jackknifed when his eyes softened, and he asked kindly, “Now, Lush. How are you feeling?”
I stared at him, blinking in bewilderment.
Was he freaking serious?
I was about to lose my mind.
“Well,” she spoke breathily, “my head hurts, and my neck is really sore.” Sasha nodded in sympathy. “I think I might need a few more days off.” She lowered her eyes and fluttered her lashes. And I almost gagged. “But if you don’t want me to, I guess I can just go to the cops and file a report. I’m sure you have some kind of insurance that deals with workplace compensation.”
And I slowly twisted to face her, letting my arms fall by my sides.
Was that a threat? Did she just threaten my brother?
Because if it was, I would take the four steps over, grip her hair in my hands, walk her over to the desk, and make her head meet it—again and again.
Oh, please.
I really hoped it was a threat.
Sasha put his hands up and grinned. “Whoa, now. Let’s just take it down a notch. I’m sure we can work something out.”
I got chills. He never grinned, not like that. It was slimy.
He then asked, “What about the money I gave you? Is that gone already?”
Lush simply shrugged. “I had bills to pay.”
Sasha’s demeanor changed. It was slight, but I saw it.
Something was up. I felt it in my bones.
“See, here’s the thing—” My brother stood and rounded the table, sitting himself down on the edge. “—Martha.” My head snapped up just as his eyes darkened, and he stared at her through his thick lashes. “You think you know me, but you don’t. If you knew me, you’d know that I don’t fuck with women like you.” Her face paled, but Sasha went on. “And I sure as hell don’t let them put a target on my head.”
Lush’s eyes widened. She seemed to be contemplating her life’s every decision, and when Sasha looked the way he was looking at her right now, I didn’t blame her.