“Christ, he really is the polar opposite of Yuri,” Katya remarked. “Did I tell you he wanted me to marry Sergei?”
“No! Oh God, that would have been awful.”
Katya shook her head slightly. “Awful in the sense that it would have been romantically loveless, but Sergei himself isn’t all that bad. He’s reasonable, at least.”
Suddenly, an idea struck. I rolled over onto my front and looked at Katya. “I don’t suppose you could ask him if he’s heard anything from the Russian side about the distribution of veterinary drugs on the streets? Or about anything to do with the break-in at my apartment?”
“I suppose I could. I’m not sure how much Sergei would actually tell me, given that I’m supposed to be out of the whole mob life, but it’s worth a shot. I’ll contact him tomorrow and see if I can get him to meet you.”
Maybe after meeting with Sergei, I could finally make some headway and work out what was going on. It was worth a shot, at least.
“Thanks,” I said, then jumped a little in surprise when the door to my bedroom clicked open.
It was our housekeeper, Clara, with a plate full of sandwiches.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t prepare you anything warm, but your father insisted on getting food up to you as soon as possible,” Clara apologized. “That bottle of vodka you used to hide in your wardrobe is still there, too, if you want something with a bit of a kick.”
She grinned as I rolled my eyes.
“Of course you knew about that.”
“I know about everything that goes on in this house, Miss O’Leary.”
“I’ll have you know it’s Doctor O’Leary now.”
Clara waved a hand dismissively as she made her way back to the door. “You’ll always be the little miss to me, Kirsten. Try to get a good night's sleep, now.”
“Thanks, Clara.”
I hadn’t thought I had much of an appetite, but after the first bite of a sandwich, I realized I was ravenous. Between the two of us, the platter was very quickly scarfed down, leaving nothing but crumbs within minutes.
“Ahh, I feel fat now,” Katya remarked after patting her stomach. I scoffed at the comment.
“Hardly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone with as good a figure as you in real life.”
“I thought sisters were supposed to insult you incessantly, not give you compliments?”
“I think it’s a bit of both.”
“Well, then—your face looks awful right now, Kirsten. Does that balance us out?”
I gave her the finger. “I’m not sure that’s how it works, but you can be damn sure the next time you’re fishing for compliments, I’ll flat out insult you.”
Katya smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
We lay in peaceful silence for a while, and I realized all at once I was actually drifting off to sleep. I knew I’d never have been able to sleep if I was by myself, which only made me appreciate Katya’s presence all the more.
“Thanks for being here,” I said quietly, the words almost lost in my massive bedroom.
“Any time.” There was a pause, then Katya asked, “What were you and Rafe doing, by the way? It was a bit late to have a meeting about your case.”
I looked away, grimacing as I did so. “We’d been drinking and maybe planning on running away together…”
Katya sat up in shock. “No way! The two of you are like a full-on Romeo and Juliet. Are you still planning on it?”
“Given everything that happened tonight, I somehow doubt it,” I breathed. “It wouldn’t have been fair to anyone to have done it anyway. It was a silly, tipsy dream.”
“Kirsten, that’s so sad.”
“I know.”
“We’ll find out who’s behind all of this.”
“I can only hope we do.”
Katya hugged me once more, then moved off the bed to turn off the light.
“It’s time the two of us got some sleep. Trust me—you’ll need to be well-rested if you’re going to face off against Sergei.”
“You think I’ll be able to meet him tomorrow?”
Katya laughed. “No, but you definitely need at least two nights worth of sleep before you’re ready to talk to him.”
“So mean.”
“I’m your sister; I get to be mean.”
“Something tells me I’m going to regret this relationship.”
She turned off the light and returned to the bed. I could tell Katya was grinning even in the darkness.
“You’re stuck with me whether you want me or not, big sister.”
“Huh. I hadn’t thought about the fact that you’re younger than me.”
“Guess that means you’re not the ‘little miss’ anymore.”
“You trying to usurp my position in the O’Leary household?”
Our banter continued in this way for another few minutes, the easy back-and-forth of it calm and relaxing. When I found myself drifting off, I didn’t try to fight it. Katya was right. I needed the rest if I was going to work out who the hell was after me.
Chapter Fourteen
This was, quite potentially, the most awkward and intense discussion I’d ever been a part of. Not because I was the one who had to do most of the talking. I kept waiting for Liam O’Leary to ask why I’d been with Kirsten when we reached her apartment, but he never did. Neither did Ian tell his father for me. He didn’t even give me any dirty looks.
Clearly, it was Ian’s intention to keep his discovery of Kirsten and my botched runaway attempt between the two of us—for this, I was thankful. It was hardly as if we were going to try it again anyway...well, certainly not anytime soon.
Liam and Patrick had both reacted much as Ian had to the knowledge that Kirsten’s only photo of herself as a baby with her mother had been stolen—shocked, but not in a ‘why would they take that?’ kind of way. They acted more in an ‘I know who’s likely behind this, and that isn’t good’ kind of way.
I decided to bite the bullet and ask, “Is there something significant about Kirsten’s photo being taken?”
Ian glared at me. “It’s not something you need to—”
“If I’m defending her as her lawyer, then yes, I need to know, Ian,” I interrupted, predicting what he was going to say.
Liam raised a hand to prevent anyone else from speaking. “Though my son’s tone was wrong, the matter truly is something you would previously never have needed to know, Rafe.” He let out a frustrated breath. “Kirsten doesn’t even know. And I don’t want her to know, so what I’m about to tell you isn’t to leave this room. Is that clear?”
Ian looked as if he was going to complain. I’d never kept anything from Kirsten in the past—back when we spent all our time together—so why would I start now?
“If it’ll help me understand what’s going on here and allow me to clear Kirsten’s name, then I’ll gladly keep this from her,” I replied, keeping my eyes on Liam, willing him to see how serious I was.
Liam seemed satisfied by my answer, while Ian looked defeated, as if he were sure I would prove them wrong. Patrick, on the other hand, had barely said a word since I’d entered the O’Leary household. I’d always found it difficult to work out what the man was thinking, and right now was no exception. He did, however, stand up and walk over to a cabinet, returning with some whiskey and four glasses. It was the same kind Kirsten had brought over to my house. That felt like years ago but was, in reality, only a few hours ago.
I gladly accepted a glass. It was only after all four of us had taken long drinks of the fiery, amber liquid that Liam began his explanation.
“When I married Jane—their mother,” Liam began, gesturing at his sons, “there was one lad in particular who was very unhappy: Brian Feldman. He’d pined after Jane all throughout high school, but when she finally relented and went out with the guy in her senior year, he was a complete and utter psychopath. He wanted to know where she was at all times, who she was seeing, what she was eating—you get the picture. She tried t
o break it off several times, but Brian just wouldn’t listen to her.”
“Anyway,” he continued, “Jane and I had known each other for years through our friends, though we’d never really spoken. But I’d noticed the way this guy was sneaking around, watching her, and I kind of…I don’t know, took it upon myself to protect her. I guess a mob lifestyle has benefits in particular situations.”
Liam chuckled at his own joke. I was painfully aware I was learning of how Liam and his late-wife had first got together—but the uncensored version. All Kirsten, and therefore I, knew was that Liam and Jane had been high school sweethearts who married straight after they graduated. I’d always known the real story couldn’t have been as rose-tinted as Kirsten understood it to be.
“Once Jane realized what I was doing on her behalf, we got close very quickly. Brian didn’t like that at all. He couldn’t get near her when I was around. He assumed we were together, which infuriated him. He’d always hated that I belonged to a powerful family and he didn’t. He never quit looking for an in. He went from syndicate to syndicate, trying to earn a position anywhere, but everyone saw him for the scumball he was.
“As for Jane and me…I guess we kept up the charade for so long, we ended up actually falling for each other.”
I’d never seen Liam with such a happy, nostalgic look on his face. He clearly cherished the memory of how he and his wife fell in love.
He continued. “Brian didn’t want to give up. Jane ended up having to get a restraining order against him when we graduated. She and I married pretty quickly after graduation—everyone assumed it was because she was pregnant, but we just…we knew we wanted to be together. Patrick wasn’t born for another two years, so that quashed the shotgun wedding theory pretty quickly. Ian followed just over a year later. Brian hadn’t bothered Jane since she’d filed the restraining order, so we assumed he’d finally moved on with his life. I couldn’t imagine being happier than I was back then.”
Then Liam’s face darkened. “But I was wrong about Brian having moved on. One night, when Jane was returning from a night class—she had her sights set on studying vet medicine. Funny, because I’ve never told Kirsten that. Anyway, Brian cornered her. He demanded that she return to him, saying he’d never accepted their break-up, so, in his reality, the two of them were still together. And then—and then—”
Liam paused and downed his whiskey. I could tell what he was going to say next. I’d sat in on enough sexual assault cases by now to know. Liam looked at my face.
“Well, clearly you’ve worked out what happened. Someone saw him before he could drag her away someplace else and called the police. Brian ran from the scene before they arrived. My poor Jane was a mess, as you would expect. A few of my guys found Brian a couple days later and beat him half to death. Lord knows I wanted him dead, but we handed him over to the police, and he was found guilty of his crimes. He went to jail for years. I never heard from or saw him again after he was released.”
Everyone was silent as I took in this information. Clearly, this had all been kept under wraps. I was certain nobody in the Italian mob knew of what happened to the then-queen of the Irish mob.
“So how does Kirsten play into all of this?” I asked, not sure I really wanted to know anymore.
Liam growled. “Nine months after Brian attacked Jane, Kirsten was born.”
“Oh shit.”
He shook his head. “She’s definitely mine,” he quickly added. “You can tell just by looking at her that she’s mine, but Jane insisted we had Kirsten’s blood type tested, too. Even if she’d been Brian’s, I’d have loved her like she was my own because she was Jane’s too, but I can’t tell you how relieved I ultimately was that she was truly my daughter.”
“Did Brian know about the pregnancy?”
Liam frowned. “I’m sure he didn’t know when he was in prison, but like I said, nobody has seen nor heard from him since he was released. Considering what happened tonight, it’s highly probable he does know.”
“If Brian has cause to think Kirsten is his own daughter, why would he frame her for drug distribution?”
Liam rubbed his stubbly chin. “Possibly to get back at me for taking something he considered his—twice. But I don’t know. I guess that’s what we have to find out.”
My head was swimming, drowning in everything I’d seen and heard over the past few hours. The whiskey probably didn’t help with clarity. It was all so confusing.
“Don’t you dare tell Kirsten,” Ian threatened. “Make up some lie as to the leads you’re following to have the court drop her case, just don’t tell her the truth.”
I looked at my best friend pointedly. “Ian, if you think I could tell Kirsten about anything I’ve just heard, then you really don’t know me at all. No woman needs to know her mother was assaulted. This—I don’t even know how I’m supposed to process all of this. But…I’m so sorry. For all of you. What happened to Jane was…beyond awful.”
All three of the men in front of me had unreadable, stoic expressions plastered on their faces—I knew none of them was particularly great at dealing with sympathy and condolences.
“I couldn’t save her mother, but I’ll be damned if I won’t save her.” Liam knocked back his whiskey before staring at me. “Just get my daughter free of all this, then for the love of God get her out of this forsaken city. I know she loves it, but it’s not safe for her.”
I felt my insides freeze. “You…knew? About—”
“Well, I know for sure, now that you’ve confirmed it,” Liam said with a humorless laugh. “I’ve had an inkling for a long time now the two of you would end up together. It’s not as if Kirsten has ever been interested in anyone else. You seem to have actually done a pretty grand job of staying out of the mob, so lately I’ve been running out of reasons to disapprove of you, Rafe Wilde.”
I didn’t know how to take that. The approval of Kirsten’s father made me happy, but Liam didn’t know what I’d done to ensure Sergei sailed smoothly to the top of the Russian mob. I wouldn’t count that as staying out of the life he didn’t want for his daughter, but I could hardly admit to it out loud.
Instead, I smiled slightly and then checked the time. “I should really be heading back home before it gets too late.”
Ian glanced at me. “I’ll drive you.”
His father shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. Rafe can stay here tonight. Clara has already prepared the guest bedroom on the first floor for you. I don’t know what might have happened if you weren’t with my daughter tonight…and I don’t want to dwell on it. So please stay the night. It’s the least I can do to say thank you.”
God, Liam really was a good man, and a great father. Not for the first time, I wondered why he was the head of the Irish mob in the first place.
Patrick stood up from the table. “I’ll show you where the room is,” he said. I was surprised—it’s not as if Patrick and I had ever talked much.
I followed him after saying, “Thank you for the hospitality, Mr. O’Leary. Rest assured, I will clear Kirsten’s name. You can be damn certain of that.” I glanced at Ian. “I’ll speak to you in the morning.”
Ian said nothing, but he didn’t seem nearly as livid as he’d been earlier. Maybe having his father approve of me being with Kirsten was enough to suppress his overprotective nature. I could only hope.
When Patrick showed me to the guest bedroom, he turned to me and said, “I’ll talk to Ian. He’s gotten out of hand lately, especially towards you. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
I smiled in gratitude. “Thanks, Patrick.”
“And for what it’s worth, I was always hoping the two of you would end up together. You were about the only person who could convince Kirsten not to always do the first stupid thing that popped into her head.”
I laughed. “I’m fairly certain she still managed to rope me into doing those stupid things more often than I managed to talk her out of them.”
“Then I shudder
to think what she could have gotten into without you around!”
Patrick left me in the corridor. I recognized the door to Kirsten’s old room sitting ajar just down the hallway, and out of curiosity, I walked over to it. Peeking through the open space, I saw Kirsten and Katya lying on the bed, huddled against each other as if they’d known each other their entire lives.
It was adorable and reassuring. I’d been worried Kirsten wouldn’t be able to sleep at all tonight.
As I made my way back to the guest bedroom, I mulled over everything I’d been told tonight by Liam O’Leary. I had to wonder, how was I supposed to sleep tonight?
Chapter Fifteen
I’d almost forgotten how good a decent night of sleep could be. Though I knew my life was likely going to get a lot worse before it got better, I felt refreshed. After all, I’d been charged with a dangerous crime I hadn’t committed. I couldn’t leave the city. I couldn’t work. Someone who may be involved in the crime I was framed for had broken into my apartment. They took away the only physical evidence I was my mother’s one and only daughter…
Then my attempt to run away with the man I loved had been botched. One could say there were no circumstances under which I could feel better today, and yet I did. Maybe it was the excessive crying, or maybe it was the fact that I knew Rafe reciprocated my feelings. Maybe it was because Katya and I had talked well into the night until we both fell into an exhausted sleep. Maybe it was all of them. Whatever the cause, I felt like I could tackle anything thrown my way today, which could only be a good thing.
Katya wasn’t lying beside me when I woke up. The sound of running water from my bathroom told me where my half-sister was. Wondering what time it was, I picked up my cell phone from the bedside table, only to discover it had no charge left.
“Katya, do you have a phone charger?” I called out, loudly enough that she could hear me above the water.
“In my bag,” she managed to gurgle out. Clearly, she was brushing her teeth. Chuckling at the noise she made, I walked over to her bag and got her charger, impatiently waiting for my phone to turn back on once I plugged it in. When the time flashed on the screen, I clucked my tongue in annoyance. It was well past noon.
Betting On Us (Wilde Love Book 3) Page 9
