I’m going to get it together.
He kneeled down by me, gave me a kiss on my cheek, and stared at the book. “Going down memory lane?”
“Yes.” I turned the page and went back to the wedding photos. “I’m rethinking all my history now. I’m wondering about my life.”
“It won’t be that bad. It’s just the past three years that may have been. . .orchestrated.”
“Let’s hope.”
Jean-Pierre’s gaze never left the images. “What’s this?”
“My parents wedding.”
“Hmmm.” He leaned closer to get a better view. “Your parents know some powerful people.”
I pointed to the guy that had the stars on his neck. “Do you know who that is?”
“Not his first name, but I know his son very well. That’s Kazimir’s step-father.” His expression hardened. “They’d called him The King. Long ago, he’d been Vory v Zakone—a thief in law. Later, the King ran the Bratva and was killed.”
“And he was at my parents wedding?” I froze for a few seconds.
“He’s on your father’s side of the wedding too?”
It was hard to speak. “Yes.”
Jean-Pierre sat down on the floor next to me. “Do you remember Russians in your childhood?”
“No, but we stayed to ourselves a lot. Eventually moving to the mountains where Dad still lives. There were a few years, when I was even homeschooled. When people came to visit, it was either my friends or Mom’s.”
He slowly flipped through some of the scrapbook. “But not your father’s friends?”
“No.”
“I never looked too deeply into your father. Louis went down to check on him.”
“Check on him?”
“At the time, I didn’t know who was fighting with me. I checked all the men around you, wondering if you had a protective dad.”
“What happened when Louis went down there?”
“Louis said your father was building a huge structure in the back yard. It looked like three levels of something.” Jean-Pierre gave me the scrapbook back.
I set it on the side. “I have to call him and ask about this. Why would he have the Lion’s stepfather at his wedding. That doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe your father met Kazimir’s father through Celina. She was with his Uncle.”
“Do you see his uncle in any of the pictures.” I gave him back the scrapbook.
For several minutes, Jean-Pierre checked and shook his head. “No. Kazimir’s stepfather is the only Russian there. The only one I know.”
“Maybe Dad introduced Celina to Kazimir’s Uncle.” I shrugged. “Not that it tells me anything more than the fact that I have no idea what’s going on.”
“Don’t say that.” He set the scrap book on the floor, rose, and helped me up. “We should talk.”
I gazed at him.
His expression remained hard and serious. “I’ve got really bad news, and I don’t want to keep you in the dark about it anymore. You have to know.”
“What is it?”
“I found this out yesterday, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I wanted you to have one more happy night.”
My heartbeats increased. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Leo and Vibrato. Someone killed them.”
I held my stomach. “Leo is dead? No. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would anyone kill him?”
“My men went to get your things and found his body along with. . .Vibrato.”
My eyes watered. I turned away from Jean-Pierre embarrassed with my reaction. Leo and Vibrato had been two kind beings on this planet. They did what was right. They didn’t cause any trouble. They didn’t bother anyone, and more important, they weren’t involved in any of this bullshit. Neither was supposed to die.
I hugged myself. “What the fuck?”
From behind, Jean-Pierre wrapped his arms around me. “Whoever did it, I will find them, and I will kill them. Do you believe me?”
I shook in fear and sadness. “I believe you.”
“I swear.”
I turned around and leaned my head against his hard chest. “Who did it?”
“We’re searching.” He tightened his grip around me. “You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me.”
My voice weakened. “I know, but what about everyone else? I don’t want anything to happen to anybody.”
“I put men around your father. If there’s anybody else, let me know. I’ll give Louis their addresses. Your family and friends will never know.”
With shaking fingers, I wiped new tears away.
“I’ll protect you, Eden, and I’ll keep anybody that you love safe.”
“And…what about Aunt Celina? Is she. . .okay?”
“She’s still running.”
I leaned away from him. “Now more than ever, I have to talk to Shalimar.”
“She won’t talk to you.” He stirred, put his hand in his pocket, and then pulled a black box out. “Rafael got to Shalimar first. She was pissed.”
“Damn it.”
“Shalimar said that all she was supposed to do was give you this.” He opened the box. A necklace sat inside with a beautiful silver violin dangling from it. “Your aunt’s message was for you to never forget who you are, or where you come from.”
But who am I? And where do I come from, Aunt Celina? Apparently, my family has several Russian connections that I didn’t know about. Very powerful connections.