Chapter 22

DANILL

The door opens and I watch as the guard stands to the side while Ludis passes by him. I stand slightly, dipping my chin, the chains clanking against the chair and table legs. Sinking back down in my seat, I keep my hands on the tabletop, clasp together as I impatiently wait for him to open his briefcase and take the folders out of it.

Ludis clears his throat, his gaze finding mine. “We have our pretrial beginning on Monday,” he announces. “Holland will be there, sitting right behind you in support.”

Dipping my chin, I let out a breath and press my lips together, waiting for him to continue. I want to ask a million questions, but I also want to know what he has already figured out.

“Honestly, I will be surprised if we make it past pretrial,” he announces. “Why?”

He grins. “In California, the judge may answer two questions before you move ahead to a trial. One of them is if there is probable cause, the other is, if so, are you the person who could have committed the crime. They have zero hard evidence that you are a loan shark, that you blackmailed anyone, or that you have threatened any violence toward someone. They arrested you in hopes that you would take a deal and talk.”

“If they have nothing, how are we even this far in the process?” I ask.

“We’ll see the discovery, but I wouldn’t worry too much. Just in case they try to plant some shit. I have plenty in my back pocket, Danill. This is not my first trial, yes?”

“I’m just not ready to go away for a few years.” “New wife, new life. I understand.” “Do you?” I ask.

He leans forward. “Davydov filled me in completely. She is under guard, heavily.”

Nodding, I lift my hand to my chin and rub it, hating the sound of the chains clanking together when I do. Arching a brow, I wonder what he has, but I also know that he won’t tell me here. The walls have ears and I don’t blame him for keeping it to himself. So instead of focusing on my case, I shift my attention to Holland.

“She’s okay?”

Ludis hums, his eyes finding mine and holding them. “She is in shock over everything that’s happened. Kazimir, Grisha, and Fyodor told her everything, well, almost everything.”

I curse, shaking my head. I didn’t want her to know… maybe ever. I wanted to keep the Bratva a secret, wanted to keep her oblivious to the happenings that were going on around her. I wanted to keep her to myself, all of her, wanted to control how much and what she knew. They fucked it up for me, as did the goddamn authorities.

“What now?” I grind out.

He shakes his head. “Threatened to leave, run away. Grisha has been there, along with Eriks. They’ll ensure she doesn’t go anywhere, they’ve told her that she cannot.” Fuck.

Fucking fuck.

Inhaling a deep breath, I let it out slowly, staring at him and wondering what in the fuck they’ve done to my plan? I’d stolen her in plain sight. Made her think that she was part of the decision. I’d executed my plan perfectly and now? They’ve fucked me over.

“Anything else?” I ask, trying to keep from lunging forward and taking my anger out on him.

He shakes his head slowly. “I’ll bring your suit when I come Monday morning. I’m prepared and I’m confident this will go our way.”

I hope he’s right, because right now he’s on my goddamn list. Though, I have to remember not to shoot the messenger. He didn’t tell Holland anything. That’s something that I’m definitely going to bring up to Grisha, Kazimir, and Fyodor. Pakhans or not, it wasn’t their goddamn place to tell my wife a goddamn thing.

Ludis leaves me and a few moments later my guard makes his way inside. He grins at me, then sinks down in the chair across from mine. This is a man who is in my pocket, he’s taken as much care of me as he can in this shithole.

“Cigarette?” he asks, holding out a box.

Jerking my chin, I reach my hands toward the box, taking a stick, then placing it at my lips. He lights it for me, then lights his own and together we take a long drag, closing our eyes with a sigh.

“Your lawyer is right. I don’t think they have enough on you to get you to trial.”

“This you know?” I ask, opening one eye and focusing on him.

He chuckles. “I listen and pay attention. I’ve heard the murmurings. Plus, my brother works for their department. Been watching this whole thing from the other side for me.

They’re scrambling.”

“And you’re just now telling me?” I ask.

He leans forward, his eyes holding mine before he speaks again, this time lowering his voice as if he knows that someone could be watching, could be listening. Which I have no doubt that they fucking are.

“I had to make sure. Sure, we’ve had dealings together, but we don’t know one another well.”

“So, you’re good with me now?” I ask on a chuckle.

He smirks. “I’m good and I’m a friend.” Without another word, he leans back in his seat, then he takes his phone out of his pocket. He touches the screen, then slides it across the table toward me.

Looking down, I’m not sure what I expect to see, but it isn’t what is laid out in front of me. It’s a picture. A picture of my wife and a man I’ve never seen before. His arm is wrapped around her and her head is tipped up toward him.

“I need context,” I growl.

He licks his lips. “That was taken yesterday, outside of a shop in Rodeo Drive.”

“The man?” I ask through gritted teeth.

He clears his throat, shifting in his chair, no doubt feeling the air around us change with my complete fucking anger. He grins across the table at me and shakes his head once. “I didn’t look too deep into it. That was on some gossip site. I saw it and saved it.”

I don’t say what I’m thinking. That the fuck needs to die. He will too. He’s touching my wife. And after he’s dead, Holland will answer for the way he touches her. Although, I don’t give a fuck what the reason is, it’s unacceptable and they’re both going to answer. One in death and one in a way I haven’t decided upon yet.