Page 203 of Hate to Love You
And despite what she may think, this icy interaction is more for her benefit than mine. Because Polina will not give a flying fuck about Abby’s justifications for killing Igor, and still demand blood for her late husband’s death.
Abby’s blood.
After all, that is the tradition in our family.
My protocol requires me to hand Abby over to Polina and allow my sister to exact whatever revenge she desires, in whatever gruesome manner she prefers.
But I won’t do that. I can’t.
As inconvenient and possibly insane as it is to admit, I care deeply for Abby. Probably more than I should.
However, if Abby’s actions come to light, combined with the fact that I both knew and didn’t immediately give her to my sister, the fallout could be catastrophic. And deadly.
I need time to figure out a plan, and my next steps, without having to worry about something happening to Abby.
…And I also need to make sure that Abby doesn’t “happen” to any of my men.
Closing the door, I tap the top of the car twice, and Oleg drives off.
Now I’m off to my second task of the night:
Dinner.
A little over an hour later I sit across from one of the wealthiest billionaires in the world…and one of the deadliest.
Jaxon Pace, the Don Supreme of Chicago’s underground crime syndicate is my platonic date for the evening.
He’s also my oldest friend.
Well, he’s technically my only friend, outside of Cal, who was sworn in service to me when we were kids.
Jaxon and I, on the other hand, go back nearly a decade. The two of us have a long backlist of chaotic debauchery, which is why I decide to finally unload my situation with Abby.
“...So let me get this straight,” he says, taking a drink and then pointing at me with his wine glass. “You’ve had a thing for this woman for years, even back when she was married. She disappears one day, shortly after her husband’s death, only to show up for a job interview at your company. You hire her, and fall for her, only to find out that she’s the same woman who killed your brother-in-law.”
“Yep,” I say into my own glass. “That about sums it up.”
“And she’s the same woman, who is also potentially killing more of your men,” he leans back against the booth.
“I’d say it’s a bit past potentially at this point,” I cough. “We’re up to four at the moment. And that’s just my men, not any others that she might’ve…disposed of.”
“You think she’s been targeting men for some time?” He asks. “As in, before the two of you got together?”
I nod, cutting off a bit of my prime rib and swirling it around in the juice on the plate.
“So…she’s a killer,” he whispers, although his quiet tone appears more from shock than from any reasonable worry that someone could overhear our conversation.
“Yeah,” I sigh, popping the steak into my mouth. “Seems that way.”
Jaxon stares at me intently for a few seconds before raising his brows and shaking his head.
“Huh,” he snorts, leaning in and taking a bite of his food.
“What?”
“It’s just a bit funny,” he says, chuckling as he wipes his lip with his napkin before tossing it on the table.
“What’s funny?”